I had abandoned that space myself.

I had failed to notice Savannah’s exhaustion, failed to attend her appointments, and finally watched her walk away without following.

Lucas had arrived afterward and helped her build what I had refused to maintain.

“Are they happy?” I asked.

Raymond seemed surprised.

“From what I could establish, yes.”

“That’s what I needed to know.”

He waited before adding that Savannah volunteered at a neighborhood resource center three days a week, that Lucas spent weekends running pediatric outreach clinics, and that the family rented a brick townhome on Grand Avenue.

There was nothing glamorous about the address.

No gates.

No security detail.

A neighborhood with bicycles chained to porches and windows full of plants.

“Did anyone ask to be investigated?” Raymond asked quietly.

It was the first time in twelve years he had challenged an instruction without waiting for me to invite his opinion.