"Is Emily here?"
The boy continued staring.
"Mom?"
Daniel's fingers tightened around the lilies.
Before he could speak again, footsteps rushed from the kitchen.
Emily appeared around the corner.
She was carrying a dish towel.
She saw Daniel.
The towel slipped from her hand.
Everything in her face disappeared at once.
Color.
Expression.
Breath.
"Daniel?"
The boy looked from her to the soldier at the door.
"Mommy?"
Daniel could barely hear anything.
The sound of rain against the porch roof seemed impossibly loud.
Emily took one step forward.
Then stopped.
"You weren't supposed to be home yet."
The sentence hit him harder than a greeting should have.
Not I missed you.
Not you're home.
Not oh my God.
You weren't supposed to be home yet.
Daniel looked down at the boy.
The child had moved closer to Emily.
One small hand gripped the side of her sweater.
"Who is he?" Daniel asked.
Emily closed her eyes.
Only for a second.
But Daniel saw it.
And in that second, every possibility he had refused to consider for three years broke loose at once.
"Daniel, come inside."
"Who is he?"
"Please."
The boy looked nervous now.
Emily touched his shoulder.
"Marcus, sweetheart, go upstairs for me."
Marcus.
The name did not mean anything to Daniel.
That somehow made it worse.
"I don't want to."
"It's okay."
"Is he a soldier?"
Daniel looked at the child again.
There was nothing guilty in Marcus's face.
Nothing hidden.
He was just confused.
Daniel forced himself to lower his voice.
"Yeah. I'm a soldier."
Marcus studied the patches on Daniel's uniform.
"My dad was a soldier too."
Daniel stopped breathing again.
Emily whispered, "Marcus."
But the boy had already said it.
My dad was a soldier too.
Daniel looked at his wife.
This time, anger replaced shock.
Not explosive anger.
Something colder.
Precise.
"Where is his father?"
Emily's eyes filled.
"Daniel, please come inside."
"Where is his father?"
Marcus looked up at Emily.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
She crouched immediately.
"Nothing, baby."
Baby.