My son beat me 30 times in front of his 12

 

It was Brandon’s 30th birthday.

 

Franklin parked several blocks away because the driveway was already crowded with expensive luxury vehicles.

 

He carried a small gift wrapped in brown paper.

 

The gift wasn’t extravagant.

 

It was meaningful.

An antique clock that had been carefully restored.

 

The same model Brandon’s grandfather had admired years earlier.

 

To Franklin, the clock represented family history.

 

Legacy.

 

Memory.

 

The things that truly matter.

 

But when he presented it, the reaction was disappointing.

 

Amber barely glanced at it.

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