The father who had walked away gave his answer… but it came too late

white envelope from the folder. My name was written on it in handwriting I barely recognized — shakier than I remembered, but the same looping L, the same way the letters tilted slightly to the right.

I took it.

“Take your time,” Mr. Hargrove said, and he excused himself, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door softly behind him.

I sat alone continue reading …