"I found my struggling grandson and his little child living in a makeshift tent under a bridge, and the child told me people always said I would never come back; that night, I flew the two of them home on my private jet and began to reveal the secret about his father, setting off a family reunion no one expected. It was late November on the edge of downtown Seattle, beneath an overpass along the I-5. My driver had slowed for a red light when I noticed the camp: blue tarps flapping in the drizzle