Amara felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach as she sat down in the chair across from Larry’s desk. She kept her gaze lowered, staring at the tips of her shoes, acutely aware that he was studying her.

The silence stretched on for nearly a minute before Larry suddenly stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. His voice carried a rare, raw guilt.

“Ama, I know I’ve failed you all these years. I failed your mother terribly, too. You must have suffered so much living under this roof with Fiona and Elowen.”

Amara’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock.

Had she heard that right? Was Larry Sullivan actually apologizing to her?

A man whose ego and patriarchal pride dictated every breath he took-apologizing?

But as she stared into his eyes, she saw the undeniable sincerity. He looked genuinely remorseful.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of sorrow crashed over her. For a split second, she felt a burning urge to cry. Deep down, despite everything, she had always craved her family’s love.

Yes, she had found warmth and affection in Mr. Kevin Everly, but he wasn’t her blood.

Biologically, Larry was the closest person she had in the world. As a little girl, she had desperately yearned for his fatherly love.

But he had only ever offered her cold indifference. It had broken her heart over and over until, eventually, she gave up hoping. That despair had slowly morphed into resentment.

This was the first time in over twenty years that he had ever apologized to her. Amara bit her lower lip hard, fighting the moisture gathering in her eyes.

Larry’s eyes grew suspiciously bright as well.

It wasn’t until age had begun to catch up with him that he finally saw the errors of his ways.

The guilt he harbored toward his daughter was immense, rivaled only by the guilt he felt toward his late wife. He could no longer make agrends to Marissa, so he had to de everything in his power to make it right for her daughter.

But Larry was not a man built for emotional displays. Without another word he unlocked the bottom cabinet of his desk and hoisted out a heavy, two-foot-tall vintage safe, placing it carefully in front of Amara.

Amara stared at it, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. “Dad, is this…?”

“It’s your mother’s safe.”

Larry traced a hand over the scuffed, aged metal, a look of profound nostalgia settling over his features.

“This holds the things your mother valued most. Her old letters, her jewelry, and the gold heirlooms she left behind. Fiona got her hands on it a while ago and pawned off some of the gold and jewelry.”

“But don’t worry. I tracked down every single piece she took and bought them back. They’re all inside, exactly as they were. Not a single thing your mother left behind is missing. I want you to take it.”

Amara was completely floored. It was actually her mother’s safe.

She had known it was hidden somewhere in the house, a secret likely guarded by Larry and Fiona, but she had never known where.

When she first saw Fiona flaunting Marissa’s jewelry, she knew Fiona had started stealing her mother’s legacy.

But she never imagined Larry had noticed let alone gone out of his way to recover the stolen items. To have him hand the safe to her now… she was speechless.

“Take it all with you,” Larry insisted softly. “You were her only child. This was always meant to be yours.”