Richard swallowed. The bruise was a small thing now, compared to the bravery it marked. “I’m proud you stood up for him,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Grace exhaled, relief softening her posture. “Thank you.”

Keys scraped the front door; Amelia swept in, her perfume a whisper of gardenias. She froze at the sight of them, a guilty flicker crossing her face. “Richard. I—”

“Save it,” he said, too fast. Amelia flinched. He forced himself to breathe. “No. Don’t save it. Tell me why I heard about this at all by accident.”

She set her bag down carefully. “Because last time I brought you a school thing on a presentation day, you didn’t speak to me for an hour. You said I derailed you. I thought… I thought I was protecting you from yourself.”

The words landed with terrible accuracy. He remembered that day: the rushed tie, the snapped sentence he wished he could pull back. He looked at Oliver, whose thumb traced the edge of the Courage Points notebook like a shoreline.

“I was wrong,” Amelia said. “Grace has been wonderful, but you’re Oliver’s father. You should have been the first call.”

Grace rose. “I’ll give you a moment.”