Michael swallowed hard, staring at the envelope on the table. The money no longer looked like an intrusion, but like a clumsy bridge built out of guilt and love. His father hadn’t come to replace him—he had come to make amends, in the only way he knew.
For the first time in years, Michael allowed the possibility to take root—that reconciliation wasn’t impossible, that a father’s presence need not remain only in shadows. He looked at Sarah and Emily, their eyes filled with hope and fear, and whispered, “Maybe it’s time I heard him out.”