Grace, who had been quietly watching the exchange, stood up to give them space. “I’ll prepare some tea, Mr. Lawson. Maybe a cup of hot chocolate for Oliver?”

“That sounds perfect,” Richard replied, gratitude evident in his voice. “Thank you, Grace.”

As Grace moved towards the kitchen, Richard remained on the stairs, holding his son. The house, so often just a place to sleep and store his suits, felt different now—more like home.