THE MILLIONAIRE CAME HOME EARLY TO FIRE THE MAID. THEN HE SAW HIS SONS' FACES. Michael pulled the Mercedes into the gravel drive three hours ahead of schedule. The Oak Domain sat against the October sky like a postcard, all stone and ivy and money. But money doesn't fill bedrooms. Money doesn't tuck in six-year-old boys who still ask when Mama is coming back from the hospital. He came to fire the maid. Ioana had called him seventeen times this week. Sobbing. Begging. "She's cold with them, Micha