They began the song again. Oliver’s voice wavered at first, unused to joining anything so simple and honest, but the boys’ enthusiasm carried him forward. By the final line he was singing with full voice, the sound echoing against the walls of the mansion that had always felt too empty. The candles went out in a gust of breath and laughter filled the garden. Marlene handed him a plate with a slice of cake. He noticed tears shining in her eyes.
“They need you here,” she said softly. “Not your money.”
Later that night, Oliver sat on the carpeted floor of the boys’ shared bedroom. The walls were covered in crayon drawings and colored name tags. Dinosaur stickers marched along one shelf. A cardboard rocket leaned in the corner. It felt like stepping into a universe he had funded but never explored.
Noah handed him a sheet of paper. On it were five stick figures holding hands. Above them was the word daddy written with uneven letters.
“I drew this for you,” Noah said proudly.
Lucas carried a toy car with a missing wheel. “Will you fix it tomorrow,” he asked.
Ethan brought a notebook filled with scribbled letters and numbers. “These are my stories. You can read them with me,” he said.