Instead, he offered to keep in contact, if she wished, so Soo-bin could know the woman who helped her.
Nia agreed.
That was enough for the evening.
Or it should have been.
But before she left, Min-jae asked one final question.
"Do you know why Grant Holloway invited me to dinner?"
Nia hesitated.
She knew Holloway owned a real estate company.
She'd heard fragments of the discussion while serving.
But she hadn't paid close attention.
"Something about an arts development project?"
Min-jae nodded.
"A cultural and residential redevelopment proposal in Queens."
Nia looked up.
"Queens?"
He continued.
"Holloway wants my investment group to participate in a project he says will preserve a community music facility while developing the surrounding property."
Nia felt her stomach tighten.
"What's the facility called?"
Min-jae reached into his briefcase and removed a project summary.
He placed it on the table.
Across the cover was a photograph of a familiar redbrick building.
Nia stopped breathing for a moment.
She knew that building.
She'd spent nearly every Saturday there for the past four months, helping teenagers learn Korean songs, practice pronunciation, and develop confidence through music.
Her mother had volunteered there before the stroke.
Malik had performed his first public drum solo on its little stage.
The building was called East River Music House.
And according to the document in front of her, Grant Holloway intended to transform the property into a luxury residential development.
Nia looked toward Min-jae.
"Sir," she whispered, "there's something you need to know about that building."
Min-jae studied her expression.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he slid the project summary closer.
"You're familiar with it?"
Nia nodded slowly.
"Very."
She turned the first page.
The document described East River Music House as an aging cultural facility occupying a valuable parcel near the waterfront. Holloway's proposal called for demolishing several adjacent structures and building a mixed-use complex with luxury residences, shops, public outdoor space, and what it described as a modern cultural center.
Nia recognized the artist's rendering.
She'd seen it displayed at a neighborhood meeting two months earlier.
It looked beautiful.
Glass walls.
Bright classrooms.
A large performance hall.
And a rooftop garden overlooking the East River.
But the building shown in the picture didn't actually exist.
More importantly, the plan required demolishing the current music house before any permanent replacement was ready.
The proposal included temporary facilities elsewhere in Queens, but Nia knew those spaces were too small for the center's full program. One had no suitable rehearsal area, another lacked proper access, and the third was already occupied by a different organization.