Kendra moved out of the apartment within a month. Later, she mailed me a handwritten apology that I still haven’t decided how to answer. Ingrid helped me file for divorce and child support, while the court ordered Dustin to repay every remaining dollar taken from the children through monthly installments. Police eventually found the missing blue folder inside his car. Beside it sat the box containing my earrings. When the recovered money reached our account, one of the first things I bought was Clara’s winter coat—and a brand-new pair of sneakers that needed no marker to hide the wear.

Life didn’t suddenly become extravagant. We still eat rice some evenings because Clara genuinely loves it with butter. But now the refrigerator stays full, and Mrs. Albano joins us for dinner every Sunday. I no longer wake up calculating whether groceries can stretch another three days. Felix keeps his savings statement taped inside his closet beside a drawing of a stethoscope, because becoming a doctor is still his dream. Once a month, he checks the balance himself. After watching his father secretly empty that account, seeing those numbers rise means more than money. Every month, Dustin’s debt gets smaller. Every month, Felix’s future gets bigger.