Thomas entered the garden and stopped cold.

While the corporate war raged downtown, Rebecca, Samuel, and Jacob arrived at their new home—a massive, sunlit estate nestled on fifty acres of private forest near the Scioto River.

The mansion was an architectural marvel of stone, warm wood, and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked rolling green hills and a private lake. There were no dirty dishes, no dingy basement rooms, and no cruel cousins whispering insults from the shadows.

A kindly woman named Mrs. Gable, whom Thomas had hired as a head housekeeper and guardian, stood at the entrance with a warm smile and a silver tray of fresh pastries and fruit juices.

"Welcome home, children," Mrs. Gable said gently.

Jacob looked at the tray, then looked at his hands, pulling them back behind his sweater. "Do... do we have to wash the dishes first?"

Mrs. Gable’s eyes filled with soft tears. She immediately set the tray down on a lower table, dropped to her knees, and wrapped her arms around Jacob and Samuel.

"No, my sweet boy," Mrs. Gable whispered. "In this house, you only play, learn, and eat until your bellies are full. Your father made sure of that."

Rebecca walked across the gleaming hardwood floors toward the wide living room window. Outside, a brand-new playground sat under the trees, featuring wooden castles, high swings, and a private art studio built just for her.

She pulled out her small sketchbook—the one her mother had given her before she passed away—and looked out at the sky.

For three years, she had drawn pictures of her father crying in his small office after working eighteen-hour shifts at the warehouse. She had drawn pictures of her brothers hiding in the closet when Robert’s booming voice echoed down the hallways of the old estate.

She turned to a clean page, pulled out a bright yellow pencil, and drew a massive, glowing sun over a tall house.

Behind her, the front doors opened.

Thomas stepped into the grand foyer, leaving his briefcase by the door. He shed his dark suit jacket, unbuttoned his collar, and knelt down on the floor.

Samuel and Jacob didn't hesitate. They sprinted across the room, tackling their father onto the soft rug, their laughter ringing through the high ceilings.

"Dad! Dad!" Jacob squealed. "Is that big castle outside really ours?!"

"It's yours, buddy," Thomas smiled, pulling both boys close and kissing their heads. He looked up at Rebecca, who was standing by the window holding her sketchbook.

"Come here, Becca," Thomas held out his arm.

Rebecca walked over, throwing her arms around her father's neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Is it finally over, Dad?" she whispered. "Are they ever coming back to hurt us?"