Outside my window stands an empty lot where the Black Knight Inn once stood.
For years, it was a familiar landmark in Red Deer— a place of weddings, banquets, and late-night laughter. Today, it’s nothing but open ground, a patch of wind and memory. Still, when I look toward it, I don’t see vacancy. I see a table set for four.

Brandy sits across from me, her laugh bright and mischievous. Her husband Peter is to her left—warm-hearted, quick with a joke, the kind of man who can turn an awkward silence into a burst of laughter. Their friend Neil is beside me, leaning back in his chair, content to listen until a story pulls him into speech. I can almost taste the sea salt and lemon from the buffet—shrimp piled on ice, the clatter of plates, and the low hum of conversation a...

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