Walter’s attorney, a precise woman named Allison Grant, presented evidence patiently and clearly. Over time the court granted Walter legal guardianship, and by the time I turned eight my parents’ rights were officially terminated.
Walter never celebrated the ruling. Instead he took me to a diner for pancakes and quietly said, “Now you do not have to worry about someone leaving you again.”
As I grew older I noticed Walter lived like a man who kept parts of his life private. He drove a simple sedan and wore the same wristwatch every day. He read financial newspapers yet rarely discussed money. Occasionally he took serious phone calls in his office and spoke with firm authority, then returned to the kitchen sounding relaxed again.
I assumed he worked as some kind of consultant.
He taught me practical skills like balancing a checkbook, changing a tire, and reading contracts carefully before signing anything. When I was accepted into the University of Wisconsin, he hugged me awkwardly and paid my tuition without hesitation.
I once asked if spending that much money felt difficult.
Walter smiled slightly. “Money becomes difficult only when people use it to control others.”