Episode 37

The air in the Saco diner hung thick with the smell of fried onions and stale coffee, a familiar scent that usually brought a pang of… something. Nostalgia? Regret? Today, it just felt like a weight. Douglas Michael, his thinning hair slicked back with too much product, nursed a lukewarm mug, his eyes darting to the door every few minutes. He was waiting. Not for anyone in particular, not really. Just waiting. Waiting for the world to catch up, to acknowledge the empire he’d built, brick by painstakingly laid brick, from the ashes of his sister’s inheritance.

He’d always been the smarter one, the one with the vision. While Kim was chasing harebrained schemes and Jeffrey was buried in blueprints, Douglas had seen the true potential. The sisters’ trust fund. A golden goose, just waiting to be plucked. He’d been the first, the boldest. A quick flick of the wrist, a few well-placed whispers to the trustees, and the foundation of his financial empire was laid. The Vietnam War, the flag burning – that was just theatre, a way to shock the system, to show them he wasn’t like the others. He was a rebel. A survivor.

His son, bless his volatile heart, was a chip off the old block. A little too much fire, perhaps, but a fire nonetheless. Douglas saw a reflection of his own ambition in the boy’s destructive tendencies, though he’d never admit it. The motorcycle crash, the pregnant girlfriend… that was just collateral damage. A messy detail in the grand narrative of his rise. He’d moved on, built his firm, his wealth, his life, leaving the wreckage behind. Saco. It was a comfortable place to be when you’d conquered the world, or at least your corner of it.