“You’re a rare kind of person, Evan. Come in, let me make you some tea.”
“I’d love to, but I need to get home. My mom’s watching my kids.”
“You have children?”
“Three. Triplets. They’re six.”
He chuckled. “That must keep you busy. And their mother?”
“It’s just me and my mom.”
He nodded knowingly.
“You’re doing important work. Raising good kids—that matters most.”
“I hope so.”
“Where do you live?”
“The dull yellow house near the main road.”
He smiled. “Thank you again, Evan.”
“Goodnight.”
I drove home feeling lighter.
I’d done the right thing.
The next morning, loud knocking woke me up.
7:30.
I opened the door—and froze.
A sheriff stood there.
My mom appeared behind me, hand over her mouth.
“Evan?” he asked.
“That’s me.”
“Can I come inside?”
My heart raced. “Did I do something wrong?”
Inside, he turned to me.
“I’m Sheriff Matt. Did you find a wallet yesterday?”
“Yes. I returned it to a man named Gary.”
“Did he offer you a reward?”
“Yes. I refused.”
He stared at me, then made a call.
“Yeah, it’s him. Bring everything in.”
A few minutes later, three officers walked in carrying large boxes.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Matt looked at me.
“Gary is my father.”
My eyes widened.
“He told me everything last night. How you returned his pension money without asking for anything. He said you have three kids.”
I nodded.
