Alan sat on the park bench, his charcoal pencil scratching against the paper. Two days of relative peace, and then the noise began.

"Alan!"

His hand froze. He let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Judith, listen to that. The mountain wind is so strong it’s conjuring ghosts."

Judith looked toward the park entrance. Three figures were sprinting toward them, faces flushed with exertion. "Not ghosts, Alan. Debt collectors."

Luciana reached them first, her expensive coat covered in road dust.

"Alan, I finally found you..."

"Dad! You have no idea how hard we’ve been looking for you!" Charlotte threw herself forward, sobbing. "Felix is sick, he keeps calling for his grandfather. Killian was a fraud—he’s behind bars now, and everything is out in the open. Dad, please, come home. We’ll take care of you, I promise!"

Brody nodded frantically, his voice strained. "Exactly, Dad! Look at you, wandering around in the middle of nowhere. What if something happened to you? I’ve already booked your flight home. First class."

Alan looked at his children, at the entitlement etched into their faces, and laughed. A real, sharp laugh.

"Home? Which home? The one where you pinned me to the wall and frisked me for being a thief? Or the one where I served for thirty years only to be shoved aside for a con artist?"

"Alan, that was all a misunderstanding!" Luciana pleaded, her hands trembling. "I’ve checked the files. Killian fooled me. These thirty years haven’t been easy for me, either. I did it for the project—"

"Luciana," Alan cut her off. "You did it for the project, so I deserve to be treated like garbage? Is that it?" He gestured to Brody and Charlotte. "I’ve failed at many things, but I think my greatest failure was raising these two to be just like you. Blind to everything but their own convenience."

He stood up, packed his sketchbook, and gestured to Judith. "The air is clear here. Don’t pollute it."

As they walked away, security stopped the three. Luciana crumpled onto the grass, her posture deflating like a punctured tire.

"What do we do now, Mom?" Charlotte sobbed. "He won't even look at us."

Luciana tightened her jaw. "He’s stubborn, but he’s soft-hearted. We book a spot in their tour group. We follow them. Eventually, he'll crack."

That night, the temperature plummeted. The tour group lit a bonfire, the flames casting dancing shadows against the dark pines. Alan and Judith sat together, discussing lighting ratios for their photos. Luciana sat on the periphery, a heavy wool coat in her lap. She stood to approach him, but Judith stepped in, a wall of iron.

"We don't need the grand gestures now, Dr. Moore," Judith said, her voice dripping with irony. "Alan is doing just fine without your delayed pity."

The laughter of the other seniors died down, replaced by a tense silence. Luciana withdrew, her face burning. Brody and Charlotte sat in the dirt, looking like misplaced mannequins.

Luciana turned to an elderly man beside her. "Why is he so cruel? I know I made mistakes, but I’ve apologized..."

The man took a long drag of his cigarette and looked her dead in the eye. "Cruel? You think he’s cruel? After thirty years of him playing house-husband to your kids, you show up and try to kick him out? Every soul on this bus knows what you did."

Colette chimed in, her voice shrill and sharp. "Drop the act, lady! You were off playing ‘important scientist,’ but you didn’t have to play the part of the unfaithful wife. Your moral compass didn't just break; it rotted."

"You don't understand," Luciana stammered, her face a deep crimson. "Killian was a liar—"

"Liar?" Colette scoffed. "You’re a genius, and you were fooled for thirty years? I think you liked the attention, and now that your free babysitter has a life, you’re just here to drag him back to the kitchen."

Charlotte stood up, her face twisted in rage. "You have no right! My father gave his life to us because he wanted to—"

Judith cut her off, pointing a finger at her. "You’re both highly educated, aren't you? It’s a shame all that schooling didn't teach you a single thing about decency. Get lost."