Through the peephole, I saw Tyler shuffling nervously in the hallway.

I pulled the door open in surprise.

“Surprise,” he said awkwardly, holding up a plant in a ceramic pot. “Housewarming gift. It’s supposedly impossible to kill, which seemed appropriate for someone with your schedule.”

“Tyler,” I managed, genuinely shocked. “What are you doing here? How did you find my address?”

“Mom had it,” he admitted. “I should have called first, but I was afraid you might say no.”

I stepped aside to let him in, noting the expensive luggage by his feet. “Are you staying somewhere nearby?”

“Hotel downtown,” he said, looking around my apartment with interest. “This is nice. Good light.”

The small talk felt bizarre given everything that had happened. We stood in uncomfortable silence until we both spoke at once.

“I left the firm—”
“I left Chicago—”

We both stopped, then laughed, breaking the tension.

“You first,” I offered.

Tyler set the plant down on my coffee table and sank onto my couch. “I left the firm and Chicago. I’m actually moving to Boston next week. Accepted a position with an investment advisory firm that specializes in ethical investing.”

“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “That’s a big change.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Turns out working for Dad lost its appeal once I understood what I was really participating in.” He met my eyes directly. “You were right, Nat. About all of it.”

I sat beside him, processing this development. “How did he take your resignation?”

“About as well as you’d expect,” Tyler said. “Accusations of betrayal, reminders of all he’s done for me, threats about my future in the industry.” His smile was tinged with sadness. “The usual Richards family warmth.”

“And Mom?” I asked.

His expression softened. “That’s the other news. They’re separating.”

Though surprised by the speed of this development, I wasn’t shocked by the fact itself.

“Her decision or his?”

“Mutual, supposedly,” he said, “but it was Mom who moved out. She’s staying with Aunt Patricia for now, looking for her own place.” He hesitated. “She’s different, Nat. It’s like watching someone wake up from a long sleep. Last week, she mentioned taking art classes again.”

The image of my mother returning to her long-abandoned passion brought unexpected tears to my eyes.

“She wanted to call you,” Tyler continued, “but she’s afraid you’re still angry with her for not protecting you from Dad all these years.”

“I was never angry with Mom,” I clarified. “Disappointed, maybe. Sad for her. Definitely. But not angry.”

“You should tell her that,” he suggested gently. “She could use the support right now.”

We talked for hours, filling in the gaps of the past three months. Tyler described the implosion at home after the graduation dinner: how James had initially sided completely with our father but had slowly begun asking his own questions as more details emerged; how our father had negotiated a strategic departure from the firm to prevent any investigation that might be triggered by sudden resignation; how extended family had begun taking sides in a rift that seemed to be growing rather than healing.

“It’s like watching a carefully built house of cards collapse in slow motion,” Tyler observed.

“It was always going to collapse eventually,” I pointed out. “Houses of cards aren’t meant to be permanent structures.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I keep thinking about those families, the ones from the settlements. I looked them up, you know. The Taylor eventually recovered financially, but Mrs. Morrison still struggles after her husband’s death. The Guzmans’ daughter never finished college.”

The weight of these consequences hung between us, collateral damage from our family’s pursuit of success at any cost.

“That’s why I chose Boston,” Tyler continued. “The firm I’m joining has a foundation that provides financial education and assistance to families affected by predatory investment practices. It’s not atonement exactly, but it’s a start.”

Pride for my brother swelled unexpectedly. “That sounds perfect for you, Tai.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Any regrets about how everything went down?”

I considered the question carefully. “I regret the public nature of it. That wasn’t my intention. But the truth coming out? No. That needed to happen. For all of us.”

Before leaving, Tyler handed me an envelope from Mom. “She wanted me to give this to you in person.”

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