My security director, Leo, entered the kitchen carrying a folder.
“Morning, Ivan. Morning, Fiona,” Leo smiled, setting a small wooden box on the counter. “The final family trust documents arrived from the probate court. All assets are formally locked under Fiona’s independent name.”
“Thanks, Leo,” I said, shaking his hand.
Fiona looked up from her waffle tower, her blue-gray eyes clear, fearless, and full of joy.
“Daddy?” she asked.
“Yes, my sweet girl?”
“Are we going to the park after my spelling test today?”
I knelt beside her chair and took her small, warm hand in mine, feeling the steady peace of a home rebuilt around trust and protection.
“We can stay at the park as long as you want, Fiona,” I promised, my voice warm and steady. “No secrets, no hidden places, and no promises broken ever again.”
