at the sketchbook open on the table beside him.
“My dad had the idea first,” he said. “He didn’t get to build it. So I did.”
The judge’s expression softened.
“And what did you learn?”
Leo thought for a moment.
“That sometimes people leave you things without knowing it,” he said. “And sometimes families are kind of like machines. If one piece gets stuck, the whole thing stops working right. But you can fix some things if everyone tells the truth and nobody gives up.”
Behind him, my father lowered his head.
My mother took Daniel’s hand.
Diane pressed Noah’s old guitar pick between her fingers like a prayer.
And me?
I stood there watching my son explain gears, batteries, and second chances.
For years, I had believed I returned to Ohio to reveal a secret.
But that was not the whole truth.
I returned because Leo asked a question.
