I could accept help without surrendering ownership, and I could love a newly found father without allowing him to rewrite my mother’s life.

PART 21

Winter gave way to a gray, rainy spring.

Oliver grew round-cheeked and curious, turning toward my voice whenever I sang the tune my mother had loved.

I returned to a few design clients from home, grateful for work that belonged to me and didn’t require anyone else’s permission.

I had once imagined that learning my father was a billionaire would change my life because money would suddenly solve everything.

Instead, the most important difference was much less dramatic.