The tension in Richard’s shoulders eased a fraction, but another emotion took its place. Guilt gnawed at him. He realized how little he knew about Oliver’s day-to-day life, how distant he had become amidst his relentless pursuit of success.

Oliver looked up at him, eyes still glassy. “I’m okay, Dad. Grace took good care of me.” The sincerity in his son’s voice was a balm to Richard’s conscience, yet it also underscored a painful truth.

Richard reached out, tousling Oliver’s hair gently. “I’m glad you’re alright, buddy.” He paused, glancing at Grace. “And thank you, Grace. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”