“You should have thought about Noah.”
I ended the call.
It was the second time that week I had stopped a conversation with my father while he was still speaking.
It didn’t feel like winning.
It felt more like realizing how long I had allowed him to decide when our conversations were over.
The accounting he eventually provided was a disorganized collection of envelopes, bank statements, and handwritten notes.
Lena and her staff spent weeks sorting through everything.
Adam found old gift receipts inside his garage and turned them over to us, despite Brooke’s angry objections.
My mother provided records from her checkbook.
Slowly, the transfers began acquiring dates, amounts, and names. During those weeks, Noah learned how to use his new console.
Parker came over one Saturday to play the game Noah had saved for him.
I took a breath before answering the door, but Adam had brought Parker by himself.
