He explained it simply: In the old days, he’d draw the base plan in ink, then overlay sheets of tracing paper for dimensions, electrical, plumbing — each layer independent but aligned. Layout, he realized, worked the same way. But Marta was treating it like a single sheet of Mylar. She was trying to draw on top of the model instead of from the model.

Marta’s grandfather, Oskar, had been a draughtsman long before the word “digital” meant anything. Even now, in his eighties, he kept a parallel ruler on his desk like a holy relic. When Marta told him she was an architect, he nodded slowly and asked, “Do you still draw?”

That night, she drew a detail by hand. Just one. And she pinned it above her desk, a reminder that the machine was a tool — not a master.