The next morning, I stopped the monthly transfer and wrote him a short note explaining why, with no anger in it. I promised to keep helping whenever I was asked in a way that left room for no.
Olivia sent a stiff message that afternoon, then a better one that evening, which said she had watched me dry my hands on that paper towel through the archway and had not been able to stop thinking about it. We did not fix everything in a day. But the following Sunday, Michael arrived with Noah and Ella and a pan of lasagna he had made himself, slightly burned at the edges.
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