begins. Where Richmond's controlled descent coaxed you forward, Roanoke answers with an expansive lateral sweep—the ceiling plane stretching uninterrupted toward a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass that frames the canopy like a painting you walk into rather than past. The same white oak underfoot, the same restrained palette, but here the proportions open dramatically, as if the architecture itself has taken a full breath and decided to hold it. Light enters from two directions now, east and south, catching the poured concrete of the fireplace surround in a way that shifts its color hourly, and it is this interplay of mass and transparency that pulls you deeper toward Rochester, where the envelope between structure and landscape dissolves almost