Frank reached for his cane, but I waved him back.

“I’ve got this one.”

I rescued the truck and followed Theo to the garden path.

As we walked, I realized I no longer thought of the Sterling family every time I imagined my son’s future.

Colton remained part of a carefully managed parenting arrangement.

That history would require honesty when Theo was old enough to ask.

But it did not have to define every good thing we built.

From the porch, Frank called my name.