9 OLIVIALate the next afternoon, a knock on my office door startles me out of my work trance. “Come in,” I say automatically.
The door cracks open and Dad pokes his head in. “Hey there, sweetie. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, but could we talk for a minute in my office?”
I blink first at him, then at my computer screen before closing my laptop. “Sure, Dad. What do you need?”
“It’s good news, I promise,” he says.
I follow Dad to his office, where Noah is already sitting in one of the armchairs. He stands up when we walk in.
I glance between him and Dad suspiciously. What is this?
Dad picks up a thin sheaf of papers from his desk. “In all the recent hubbub, I forgot to tell you kids about my wedding gift.” He hands over the document with a proud smile.
I scan the first page and m
