He gave Raymond an address on the south side of Milwaukee and added, “If you go, leave the performance behind.” The next morning, Raymond drove there alone without his usual support, unsure of what he expected to find.
The house was small and worn, with a crooked porch and a yard that showed signs of effort despite limited resources. June opened the door slightly, her expression cautious as she recognized him immediately.
Inside, her grandfather Harold Finch sat near a window, watching carefully as Raymond spoke. “I came to apologize and to thank you,” Raymond said, keeping his voice calm and respectful.
Harold studied him closely while June remained quiet, and after a moment Raymond placed an envelope on the table. “This is for her future and for your care,” he explained, “because respect should have come before anything else.”
June looked at the envelope without touching it and said, “You do not have to do that because I fixed your car,” while Raymond replied, “I know, I am doing it because I was wrong.” Harold leaned back slightly and said, “That is the first honest thing I have heard today.”