"Yeah."
Eli descended slowly.
Nathan watched every step.
Suddenly he saw things he had missed.
Eli was thinner than he remembered.
His face slightly pale.
There was a tiny scar near his chest visible above his shirt collar.
A port scar.
Nathan knew enough medical basics to recognize it.
How had he not seen?
Because video calls hid things.
Because parents saw what they expected.
Because he had wanted to believe every "we're fine."
Eli stopped in front of him.
Nathan crouched.
"You were sick?"
Eli nodded.
"Mom said she was going to tell you after."
"After what?"
"When I got better."
Nathan looked toward Claire.
She was crying silently.
Eli touched Nathan's sleeve.
"I didn't want you to worry."
Nathan's eyes burned.
"Buddy."
"I'm okay now."
Nathan stared at his son.
Then pulled him close.
Eli hugged him.
Nathan closed his eyes.
He felt the bones in the boy's back.
Too clearly.
For months, his son had been undergoing treatment.
And Nathan had been talking about homework.
Baseball.
Video games.
Nathan pulled back.
"Are you still sick?"
Eli looked toward Claire.
Claire answered.
"He's in remission."
Nathan swallowed.
"Treatment?"
"Maintenance therapy."
"How long?"
"Another year and a half, probably."
Nathan stared at her.
Then he looked at Daniel.
Something still did not make sense.
"Why him?"
Daniel looked toward the floor.
Claire sat on the couch.
Eli climbed beside her.
Nathan remained standing.
He pointed at Daniel.
"What does he have to do with any of this?"
Eli answered before anyone else.
"He saved me."
Nathan looked at his son.
The boy said it simply.
Like telling someone Daniel had fixed a bicycle.
Nathan slowly turned toward Daniel.
"What does he mean?"
Daniel exhaled.
Claire took Eli's hand.
"When Eli didn't respond the way the doctors hoped, they started testing for more options."
Nathan's chest tightened.
"Bone marrow?"
Claire nodded.
Nathan understood.
He and Claire would have been tested.
Except Nathan was thousands of miles away.
"You're a match?"
Daniel shook his head.
"No."
Nathan frowned.
"Then what?"
Claire whispered, "His brother was."
Nathan looked confused.
Daniel's face became tense.
"My brother's name was Matthew Reeves."
Nathan stared.
The name touched something.
A memory.
Not recent.
Years ago.
Nathan searched.
Daniel saw recognition approaching.
"Matt served with you."
Nathan's eyes widened.
Matthew Reeves.
Sergeant Matthew Reeves.
Third Platoon.
Nathan had not heard that name in nearly a decade.
Matt Reeves had been twenty-eight.
Funny.
Reckless.
A mechanic who could repair anything except his own marriage.
He had deployed with Nathan years earlier.
And died.
Nathan's chest went cold.
"Matt died in Afghanistan."
Daniel nodded.
"Nine years ago."
Nathan stared.
"I knew him."
"I know."
"You knew that?"
Daniel gave a small, sad smile.
"That's why I'm here."
Nathan looked at Claire.
"What?"
She wiped her face.
Daniel continued.
"Matt donated blood and tissue samples during a military medical registry program before deployment."
Nathan remembered vaguely.