CHAPTER SIX-THE WEIGHT OF SAND

Sam paced the wide living room, tie undone, hair ruffled from pulling his hands through it. His manager sat stiffly on the sofa, clutching a file full of reports that Sam had already refused to read.

“This woman is making things impossible for me!” Sam burst out, voice sharp with frustration. “Don’t tell me to calm down, don’t even try. You don’t understand,this project isn’t just another investment. It’s my father’s dream and I’ll be damned if I let anyone ruin that.”

The manager opened his mouth, but before a word could slip out, Sam cut him off with a glare.

From the hallway, Samantha and Richard had been about to step in. Samantha frowned, worry etched across her face, but Richard placed a steady hand on her arm.

“Don’t,” he murmured. “Let him fight his battles. Our boy’s becoming a man.”

Samantha’s lips trembled. “And what kind of parents are we if we just stand by while he drowns in pressure? He’s troubled, Richard. He needs us.”

Richard smiled faintly, eyes never leaving Sam. “No,he needs to see we believe in him. Still…” He exhaled and stepped forward. “Come. Let’s give him something better than anger to hold onto.”

Minutes later, Richard found Sam snapping his laptop shut.

“Son,” Richard said with calm authority, “get dressed. We’re going out.”

Sam dragged a hand over his face. “Dad, not now. I don’t have time for this.”

“A son,” Richard countered, “is never too busy for his parents,come on get your shoes.”

The ocean air carried the salt of waves and the laughter of children as father and son stood by the shoreline. Richard let the silence sit between them before speaking.

“In my years of business,” Richard said, squinting into the sun, “I’ve learned something. Problems… they aren’t walls. They’re doors and every door has a key. Sometimes it’s not force, but the right approach.”

Sam gave a low laugh, humorless. “This woman doesn’t have a door,she’s all walls.”

“Have you tried talking to her? Not negotiating, not demanding. Talking?”

Sam shook his head. “She’s unreasonable and completely immovable.”

“Then move differently.” Richard rested a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Think,try and you’ll see that life has a way of changing when you least expect it. I raised you to build, not break and I know you’ll do great things.”

Sam’s jaw tightened, but his father’s words burrowed deep, refusing to leave. Richard smiled, clapped his son’s back, and excused himself to buy something to drink for them from the nearby stand.

Across the beach, Rose laughed as the children tugged at her skirt, begging for more ice cream. She handed them cones, the joy in her eyes only slightly dimmed by the worry she carried.

“The stay order came through,” she told them softly, pride in her voice. “That Mr. Hartman will have to beg us now.”

That was when she saw him,Sam Hartman,standing by the waves, face drawn, shoulders heavy. Her smile faltered.

What is he doing here? Is he… following me?

An idea sparked, mischievous and warm.

“Come on,” she whispered to the children. “Let’s cheer someone up.”

They ran forward, splashing seawater straight at Sam. He turned in surprise, droplets dripping down his shirt. “What on earth—”

Another splash and then another. He lifted his arms to shield himself, bewildered, until in the chaos, his hand found Rose’s.

The children’s laughter died into the background. For a heartbeat, there was only her,the curve of her lips, the sparkle of defiance in her eyes. He held her gaze like a man starved, mesmerized.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low.

“I saw you looking sad,” Rose replied, smile soft. “So I thought I’d help.”

“And why,” he whispered, still holding her hand, “would a stranger want to help me?”

She stooped, scooping sand into her palm. “Here,open your hand.”

He obeyed, curious. She placed the sand in it, then folded his fingers. “When you grip too tightly, it slips away, grain by grain but when you hold it lightly, it stays. Problems are the same.”

Sam stared at her, spellbound. A stranger, yes but she felt like everything familiar he’d been missing.

She called him “Mr. Philip,” and he laughed. “Who’s that?”

“A friend who won’t tell me his name,” she teased.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the children’s cries pulled her back. She slipped away, leaving Sam with only the memory of her touch.

Richard returned moments later, finding his son grinning at the sea. “Two minutes,” he said in mock disbelief. “I leave you for two minutes, and the storm on your face vanishes. Is it a girl?”

Sam only hugged his father, holding in a truth he wasn’t ready to share. In his mind, the words burned: Her name is Rose and I can’t be sad when she’s near.

Later, Diana’s car screeched to a stop when she spotted a familiar red Ferrari.

“Pull over,” she ordered. To the man in the driver’s seat: “That’s my daughter’s car. Out!”

Kelvin stepped forward, already dialing the police.

The man stammered, showing papers. When the police arrived, they confirmed the vehicle was his, purchased fair and square.

Diana’s jaw clenched. “I… see. My mistake.” She forced a smile, venom behind it. “Apologies, officer. I should’ve checked at home before making accusations.”

Kelvin leaned closer as they drove away. “Madam, perhaps Rose—”

“Don’t,” Diana snapped. “I’ll handle her.”

At home, the storm broke.

“You sold it?” Diana’s voice thundered across the marble hall. “Your car was worth nearly forty thousand, and you sold it for what,pennies?”

“I needed the money,” Rose said steadily. “For the lawsuit,to keep the children’s home open.”

“For charity cases?!” Diana slammed her hand on the table. “I give you everything, and still you waste, you disappoint. Enough!”

“Mother….”

“You’re grounded. You won’t leave this house until I say so.”

Grandmother stepped forward. “Diana, she is no longer a child. You cannot…”

“She is my daughter,” Diana cut in, eyes blazing. “And she will learn respect.”

With a flick of her hand, the doors to Rose’s room slammed shut, the lock turning from the outside.

Grandmother shook her head, voice low. “Sometimes, Diana… you forget she is your daughter.”

In his office, Sam nearly kissed the guard’s hand before realizing he’d been daydreaming of Rose. Later, he found himself waltzing with air in the middle of the lobby, his workers staring in shock. He only smiled, walking past, carrying the ghost of her laughter with him.

In his office, he whispered, “I’ve found the one.”

His manager entered with contracts. “Sir, about the lawsuit….”

“Forget it,” Sam interrupted, eyes still soft. “I’ve taken care of it. Leave the documents. I’ll sign them later.”

Across town, Rose sat on her bed, glaring at the locked door. “I hate her,” she whispered.

Her phone buzzed. An email.

From: Samuel Hartman. Subject: I want to meet you in person.

Rose’s heart raced. This is it. The chance to save the NGO but as the screen glowed in her hand, another thought chilled her.

How can I meet him… if I’m trapped in here?