My stepmother sl:ammed the door in my face after telling me, “Your father was bu:ried without you.” I didn’t scream, I didn’t beg; I walked straight to the cemetery with my prison clothes still in my backpack. But there I discovered there was no grave… only a secret letter that could destroy it.

A few weeks later, the court gave the family house back to me. I went inside exactly once. Reagan and Carter were gone. The expensive furniture looked stupid in the living room where my dad used to listen to music on Sundays. I went up to his old room and found a loose piece of wood in the closet.

Inside was an old photo of me as a kid wearing a toy yellow construction hat, standing next to him at a job site. On the back, he had written: My son Finnley, the only partner who will never betray me.

I sat on the floor and held that photo for hours.

I ended up selling the house because those walls had too many bad memories. I used the money to move my dad’s body and finally buried him right next to my mom at Pinecrest.

I also started the construction business back up under a new name: Dennis Restorations. I made sure to hire guys who had just gotten out of prison and couldn’t find a job, because I knew exactly what it felt like to have everyone think you’re garbage when you’re just trying to rebuild your life.