Her name was Marlene Diaz. She was the housekeeper Oliver paid each month without ever learning much beyond her efficiency and punctuality. Now she stood beneath the garden lights, hair pulled back, cheeks flushed from the oven heat, leading his children in celebration while he had been unaware of the date entirely.
A twig snapped under his shoe. Marlene startled and turned, wiping her hands on her apron. The boys looked up together, their laughter fading into curious silence. It took them a moment to connect the tall stranger in a dark suit with the photographs framed in the hallway.
“Mr. Bennett,” Marlene said, her voice unsure. “I did not know you would return tonight. The boys were asking about their birthday. I thought it would be cruel to let the day pass without something special.”
Oliver opened his mouth but no words came. He noticed details that cut deeper than any accusation. Noah with chocolate smeared across his cheek. Lucas gripping his cup as if it contained treasure. Ethan lining small candies in perfect rows. And tiny Aaron, the smallest of the four, studying him with a serious gaze that did not match his age.