“Damian…”
I crossed the yard and knelt beside her.
She felt terrifyingly light when I lifted her, and she smelled faintly of bleach, medicine, and damp clothing.
“I’m back, honey.”
She kept repeating my name.
Selina immediately began insisting that things weren’t what they looked like.
She accused Phedra of becoming impossible after getting sick—demanding money, breaking things, even stealing jewelry.
My eyes went straight to the hummingbird pendant around my mother’s neck.
“Like that one?”
Selina covered it with one hand.
Phedra told me she had tried to sell the necklace to pay for a doctor’s appointment, and Selina had taken it from her.
Then I asked the question none of them wanted to answer.
“What illness does she have?”
Phedra touched her chest.
“Cancer.”
Eleven months.
For eleven months, I had been sending money home while my wife fought cancer.
Selina argued that treatment cost too much and there were no guarantees.
But everywhere I looked, my money was visible.
New flooring.
A giant television.
Leather furniture.
Granite counters.
The SUV outside.
Godfrey’s expensive phone.
Phedra wore broken sandals and a blouse six years old.
“How much of my money did you use for her treatment?”
Selina finally claimed they had paid for several visits.
Phedra corrected her.
Two.
Two appointments in eleven months.
I helped Phedra to her feet and told them we were going to the hospital.
Selina blocked the doorway.
She accused me of disappearing for four years and then returning to treat my own family like criminals.
I rolled up my sleeve, exposing the burn marks and cuts I had collected over years in the shop.
“I worked entire nights. I slept in a room with four other guys. I spent two Christmases completely alone so you wouldn’t lack a single thing here.”
“And we didn’t,” Selina said.
I looked at Phedra.
“She did.”
Godfrey blamed me for leaving.
Selina said Phedra had brought the situation on herself.
Phedra gripped my shirt, waiting for me to lose control.
I didn’t.
Instead, I reached into my pocket and took out my phone.
**PART 2**
Seventeen missed calls from a Canadian number filled the screen.
There was also an email that had arrived while I was flying home.
I opened it slowly.
“You’re right,” I told Selina. “Coming in here yelling won’t fix anything.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
Godfrey looked less nervous.
“We can talk like a family,” I continued. “Actually, I have some news I was planning to give you tomorrow.”
Selina’s attention immediately moved from Phedra to my phone.
The email confirmed what those seventeen calls had been about.
I had just received a million-dollar settlement following a serious industrial safety violation at the Calgary plant that injured my shoulder two years earlier.
I watched the information register on their faces before saying anything more.
I hadn’t returned home planning revenge.
Until I saw Phedra in that backyard, I genuinely believed the money I sent had kept her safe.
Now I knew what greed had already cost her.
So I gave my family one piece of information about the settlement.
And deliberately withheld the part that actually mattered.
“The Canadian firm settled out of court,” I said softly, holding Phedra close to my side. “One million dollars. But because of tax regulations and international wire holds, the primary lump sum will sit in a temporary, revocable escrow account linked to my primary banking file for seventy-two hours.”
