Clarence covered his face with his trembling palms, his shoulders heaving as thirty years of profound loneliness seemed to melt away in a matter of seconds.

“I honestly assumed your sweet children only tolerated my visits because I brought sweet snacks and boxes of crayons to your doorstep,” Clarence wept into his hands.

“Mr.

Callahan, those little ones were saving a seat at our family table long before you ever carried a single bag of flour into our kitchen,” Rebecca assured him.

“We needed that food to survive these harsh months, and I will not pretend that your sacrifices did not keep us afloat, yet my children need you far more than any box of groceries because they need their grandfather.”

Judge Lawson cleared his throat loudly, setting his ink pen down upon his wooden bench before addressing the crowded courtroom.