Home meant the quiet gated neighborhood near his company headquarters, where employees nodded politely and never asked personal questions. I said yes—not for luxury, but for stability for Noah.
I didn’t realize how quickly that choice would matter.
Grant’s Job Application
Six months after Noah was born, my dad called while I was rocking him to sleep.
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Family
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“Claire,” he said calmly, “I need you to come by the office tomorrow.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No,” he replied. “Something is… interesting.”
The next day I walked into headquarters—glass walls, clean lines, the kind of place people photograph for business magazines—and took the elevator to the executive floor.
My dad was waiting in his office with the HR director. A thick folder sat on the desk. His eyes carried the look I recognized from childhood—the look that meant a problem had just landed in his hands.
He tapped the folder. “We received a job application,” he said.
