Chapter 13 - Blood and Brass
Clara arrived a moment later, carrying a roll of architectural schematics for a community center planned near the docks. She looked between Julian and her grandfather, a faint smile breaking through her exhaustion.
"You two are still debating history?" she asked, unrolling the plans across an empty worktable.
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"History doesn't finish, Clara," Samuel said, standing up with the help of his cane. He walked over to a small display cabinet he had built from reclaimed cedar. Inside, sitting on a bed of simple green felt, was the compass. Its lid was open, its needle resting steadily, pointing true north. "People think money is an inheritance. It isn't. Money is just paper that rots in the rain. What you pass down is the compass—the principle that tells you which way to walk when everyone else is running toward gold."
He reached in, lifted the compass, and placed it firmly in Clara’s hands. "You kept it when it was worthless. Now keep it when it owns everything."
