EvansI sat quietly at the dinner table, trying not to look too interested in the conversation swirling around me. Across from me, my father, Arthur Blake, held court, talking business with the energy he saved for family dinners, as if even our time together had to be a matter of strategic value. My mother, Elora, sat beside him. And right next to me, my twin brother, Ryan, soaked up Dad’s attention like he was basking in the sun, his smile wide, his posture attentive—exactly the way Dad liked it.I was used to this dynamic by now, and yet it always managed to sting. Tonight, it seemed to sting even more than usual. The way Dad beamed at Ryan, discussing business acquisitions and his next steps in the company, only highlighted how absent I was from his plans.“Ryan,” Dad said, leaning forward slightly, a rare gleam of pride in his eyes. “There’s a couple of new proposals I want you to review. Make sure they align with our expansion strategy. I think they could be an opportunity for yo
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