Six months later, the bright morning sunlight streamed through the tall bay windows of a cozy, newly renovated craftsman home on the outskirts of Austin. The air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh coffee and warm pancakes. Outside in the green backyard, seven-year-old Lily laughed joyfully as she ran through the grass with a golden retriever puppy.
Inside the bright kitchen, Clara stood near the counter, pouring orange juice into three glass cups. Her face had regained its healthy color, her smile genuine and relaxed for the first time in years. Physical therapy and time had healed her body, but the support of her brother had restored her soul.
Mark: Breakfast is ready, Clara. Did the bank confirm the trust fund transfer this morning?
Clara: Yes! The court-appo
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