Jake picked up the paper, his thumb brushing over the raised gold seal of the federal court.

Major Hayes then handed me a set of keys and a deed document.

“The home is legally yours again,” she said. “The fraudulent transfer to Logan has been reversed, and the bank has restored the original mortgage under your sole names.”

“And the trust?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Every dollar stolen from the military trust fund has been recovered from the frozen accounts,” Hayes replied. “It has been transferred back to an account only you and Jake can access.”

I looked at the keys lying in the palm of my hand.

They were cold, but they felt heavier than they ever had before.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Jake said, shaking the major’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”

We left the courthouse and drove back to our neighborhood.

The afternoon sun was bright, melting the last of the ice on our driveway.

The house stood quiet and solid against the pale blue sky.

Jake parked the car, and we walked up the concrete steps together.