“Here are the photos you hid, David,” I said, my voice clear and loud. “And here is the custody agreement from when you framed Brenda seventeen years ago.”

Mr. Harrison picked up a photo, then looked at David with deep disgust.

“Is this true, David?” Mr. Harrison asked, his voice cold.

David couldn’t speak. He looked around the room, but everyone was staring. His fiancée took a step back, her eyes wide with horror.

“We’re leaving,” Brenda said, taking Marcus’s hand. “We’ll see you in court, David. With a new lawyer.”

The fallout was swift. Mr. Harrison pulled his contracts from David’s company the next morning. Within a month, David’s business partners bought him out to save the company’s reputation.

David left town, moving somewhere down south, his reputation completely ruined. But we didn’t care about him.

Two weeks later, I sat in Mom’s room. The afternoon sun was warm on the floorboards. The door opened, and Brenda walked in, leading Marcus by the hand.

Mom looked up from her wheelchair. When she saw Marcus, her face transformed. She reached out her good left hand, her fingers trembling.

Marcus walked over and knelt beside her, taking her hand in both of his.

“Hi, Grandma,” he whispered.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, but for the first time in months, I was smiling.

I walked into the kitchen with Brenda to make tea. On the counter sat the empty blue shoebox. Beside it were the 47 unsent birthday cards.

“What are you going to do with the money?” Brenda asked, leaning against the counter.

“We’re buying him a car,” I laughed, wiping my eyes. “He’s seventeen. He needs to learn how to drive.”

Brenda laughed, a sound I hadn’t heard in nearly two decades. It was a beautiful afternoon, and we finally had our family back.