Chapter 8 - Rebuilding from the Ash
The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds over our neighborhood for the first time in a week.
Our house was silent.
Kaden slept for fourteen straight hours in his own bed—the bed with the blue quilt he’d had since he was eleven. I sat on the back patio with a mug of coffee, watching the sunlight bounce off the wet lawn where Spencer’s car had been parked two nights before.
The tracks on the grass were still visible—a deep, ugly scar in the lawn.
Colette walked out onto the patio carrying a tray with breakfast. She set it down quietly on the glass table. She was dressed in plain jeans and a sweater, no makeup, her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.
"He's still sleeping," she said softly, sitting in the chair across from me.
"Good," I replied. "He needs it."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the birds in the oak trees.
"I withdrew Kaden from Ridgemont Academy this morning," Colette said, breaking the silence. "I sent an email to the registrar. He's starting at Lakewood Public High School on Monday."
I looked at her, surprised. "Public school? You always said public school wouldn't give him the college resume he needed."
"I was wrong," she said, looking down at her hands. "I was obsessed with a picture of success that almost cost me my son's life. He belongs here, Conrad. At home. With us. Where we can see him every day after school."
I nodded slowly. "That's a good start."
"Dale Whitmore called an hour ago," she added cautiously. "The bank froze the Apex Consulting accounts. The federal prosecutor believes they will recover at least seventy percent of the stolen funds from Spencer's seized assets."
"That's good news for our equity line," I said.
She hesitated, then leaned forward, looking into my eyes with a vulnerability I hadn't seen in a decade. "Conrad... I know I broke something in us that can't just be patched up with a recovered bank balance. If you want me to move into a rental apartment while we figure this out, I will."
I looked toward the hallway inside, where Kaden was just waking up, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor.
"No," I said quietly. "You don't move out. But we aren't sweeping this under the rug either. On Monday, we start marriage counseling. And you hand over full access to all financial accounts to a neutral accountant until every dollar is cleared."
Colette gasped, fresh tears welling in her eyes, but this time she nodded vigorously. "Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to fix this."
Kaden walked out onto the patio then, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants. His eye was still discolored, but he looked taller, rested, and infinitely more present than he had in months.
"Hey, Dad," Kaden said softly. "Hey, Mom."
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"Hey, buddy," I said, standing up and opening my arms.
He walked into my embrace, hugging me tightly, then turned and allowed his mother to hug him as well. For the first time in half a year, all three of us were standing in the same space, under the same roof, facing the truth together.