Where were you?” Colby stood in the doorway spinning his car keys around one finger.

The transition into winter brought a crisp, invigorating energy to Westbridge. December arrived with heavy blankets of snow that coated the pine trees lining our driveway in sparkling white. Inside, the house smelled of cinnamon, pine needles, and the distinct, comforting scent of hot cocoa simmering on the stove.

Ivy had won first place in the regional elementary school science fair with her robotic arm, her trophy now sitting proudly on the mantelpiece right beside a framed photograph of the two of us smiling in the garage.

We had built a new life—one built on mutual trust, genuine respect, and absolute stability. No hidden agendas. No secret encrypted chat apps. No manipulative biological parents lurking in the background trying to pull strings.

On a snowy Thursday evening, I was sitting at the kitchen island helping Ivy trace snowflakes onto construction paper with silver glitter glue when the doorbell rang.

I paused, looking up from my paperwork. Visitors were rare these days, and late-evening knocks even rarer.

I walked to the front door, switching on the porch light. Through the glass, I saw two figures standing shivering under the overhang. It wasn't Russ. And it wasn't Nora.

It was Colby and Paige.

They looked thoroughly beaten down by the elements. Colby’s jacket was too thin for the December wind, his breath pluming in frosty white clouds. Paige’s shoes were caked in slush, her face pale and drawn.

I unlocked the deadbolt, pulled the door open, and stepped out onto the threshold, letting the cold air wrap around us. I didn’t invite them inside. I didn't offer them hot cocoa.

“Wade,” Colby said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes fixed on the frozen welcome mat. “Can we… can we just talk for a minute?”

“You’re standing on my porch, Colby,” I said, my voice steady and even. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“We’re sorry,” Paige blurted out, tears freezing instantly on her cheeks as they fell. “We messed up so badly. Dad kicked us out, Mom is living in a motel and can’t even afford groceries, and we had to drop out of our classes. We realized… we realized everything you did for us wasn’t because you had to, but because you actually cared. We were stupid. We listened to Russ and we ruined everything.”

I looked at them for a long, quiet moment. There was no anger left in my chest—just a vast, calm expanse of closure.

“You’re right,” I said softly. “You were stupid. And you made your choices.”

Colby swallowed hard, stepping forward with his hands out. “Does that mean… can we come back? Even just to crash on the couch until we figure out our GEDs?”

“No, Colby,” I said, my voice leaving zero room for negotiation. “You made it abundantly clear four months ago who you answer to. You told me to my face that you only answer to your biological parents. I respected your boundary then, and I respect it now.”

“Wade, please—” Paige sobbed.

“You wanted biological parents, Paige? You got them. You wanted out from under my roof? You’re out. I am not your father, I am not your stepfather, and I am certainly not your ATM.”

I reached out, pulled the heavy oak door toward me, and looked them in the eyes one last time.

“Good luck out there,” I said.