Minutes felt like hours as we searched. Ava stood by my side, her small hand gripping mine tightly. I could see her trying to be brave, but the quiver in her lip gave her away.

Finally, just as we were about to give up, my nephew, Jake, came forward, his face flushed. “I think I might have accidentally put it in my backpack,” he confessed, looking ashamed. “I thought it was my birthday money.”

We retrieved Ava’s purse from his backpack, and as soon as she confirmed her money was there, the tension in the room eased. Ava hugged Jake, forgiving him in an instant. He apologized, explaining he hadn’t meant any harm.

The party continued, albeit with a slightly different tone. The adults kept a more watchful eye, and the children learned an unintended lesson about the value of honesty and the importance of trust.

Later, as I tucked Ava into bed, she looked up at me with sleepy eyes. “I’m glad it wasn’t really stolen,” she said, her voice soft.

“Me too,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “And I’m proud of you for forgiving Jake.”

Ava smiled, her faith in family restored, her dreams of art supplies still very much alive.