of seven years of money sent every January.
Forty thousand dollars.
A ritual built on lies.
Then an idea came.
“The money should do what I thought it was doing.”
Samuel frowned.
“What?”
“Help children.”
Melissa smiled slowly.
I continued.
“Not through Bellmore.”
“Definitely not,” Rachel said.
“A new foundation.”
Claire leaned forward.
“For what?”
“Families raising children who need help with housing, school, medical expenses, whatever keeps a family stable.”
Leah looked at Calvin.
“Ava’s Fund?”
Ava looked horrified.
“No.”
Everyone laughed.
She crossed her arms.
“That sounds embarrassing.”
“What would you call it?” Melissa asked.
Ava thought deeply.
Then said, “The Oak Tree Fund.”
I stopped smiling.
The oak tree.
The place where this began.
Where a frightened seven-year-old girl had grabbed my sleeve and told me to follow her father.
Melissa understood.
Her eyes filled.
“That’s perfect.”
Arthur wrote it down.
THE OAK TREE FAMILY FOUNDATION.
And
