"Good evening, Dad." Georgia greeted as soon as she stepped into the living room with Mark. Her father was seated on one of the couches, wearing his glasses and flipping through a stack of thick files on the table in front of him.
"Georgia, my dear," he said with a warm smile, rising from the couch. His grey suit was slightly wrinkled, like he had been sitting there for hours. "How have you been doing?" He asked.
"I'm good, Dad. Thank you," she replied softly, stepping closer. She pulled him into a gentle hug, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. Mark walked past them with his phone in hand and sank into the couch beside the one their father had been sitting on.
When they pulled away, Mr. Brooks studied her with careful eyes. There was warmth there, but also the sharpness of a ma
