She looked down at the paper without touching it.

“We don’t need your quiet money,” I said.

“We came here to give these boys their real name, not to sell their childhood.”

“Grace, please,” Margaret said.

“Let us make this right for the family.”

“You can make it right by listening to Lucas explain his science project,” I said.

I picked up my briefcase, turned my back on the blank check, and walked toward the side parlor where my four sons were waiting.

The paper landed on Margaret’s silver saucer with a dry, ceramic snap.