smiling more often.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that smile.
Three months passed before Ethan returned.
This time, he came alone.
No Ashley.
No demands.
No discussion about his inheritance.
When I opened the front door, he was standing on the porch holding a small grocery bag.
His eyes were red.
Inside the bag were bread, milk, and a box of Linda’s favorite tea.
The same ordinary groceries she’d been holding on the day he’d locked her outside.
“Dad,” he said quietly, “could I speak to Mom?”
I
