I straightened.
Ethan stepped forward. “I am here.”
The man walked toward us. “In your father’s honor, there will be a dedication. A permanent installation recognizing his bravery in the line of duty as a firefighter. And a new ramp for Caleb.”
Tears filled my eyes. Ethan’s father had died fighting a fire downtown. I never imagined anyone would remember like this.
Mrs. Harlow slid down against her door, sitting on the ground.
One of the men shook Renee’s hand and said they would follow up. Then they returned to their cars and drove away.
Neighbors gathered in small groups, talking quietly about what had just happened.
But I walked over to Renee, who had returned to Caleb’s side.
“Did you really have a hand in this?” I asked.
Renee smiled.
“I used to work for the Foundation years ago. I was the Executive Assistant to the Founder. A few weeks ago, I received an email by mistake from one of the Foundation’s internal addresses. Someone forwarded a candidate profile to the Founder, but typed my old email instead of his assistant’s—they have the same name.”
She gave a small, almost ironic smile.
“I still have my old company email linked to my phone. It shouldn’t have gone through anymore, but it did.”
“It had Mrs. Harlow’s full application. She was one of the top candidates. They were planning a final home-visit dinner today.”
That explained everything.
