Emily replied immediately.
I told him that.
Another message followed.
He asked if you knew his dad.
Daniel stared at the screen.
He finally typed:
Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then Emily wrote:
He would probably like to hear about him someday.
Daniel threw the phone onto the bed.
That night, he barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Marcus standing in the doorway.
Who are you?
It should have been a simple question.
But Daniel had no answer anymore.
Husband?
Maybe.
Homeowner?
Technically.
Soldier?
Obviously.
A man returning to his own life?
That seemed less certain.
The following morning, he drove to his mother's house.
Margaret Mercer lived twenty miles away in a ranch-style home filled with family photographs and furniture older than Daniel.
She opened the door and screamed.
For one glorious second, everything was exactly how Daniel imagined coming home should feel.
His mother wrapped both arms around him and cried into his chest.
"You idiot!"
Daniel laughed for the first time since landing.
"I missed you too."
"You were supposed to call!"
"I wanted to surprise you."
Margaret slapped his shoulder.
Then she froze.
Her expression changed.
Daniel saw it immediately.
She knew.
He stepped back.
"You knew."
Margaret's eyes lowered.
Daniel's brief happiness disappeared.
"You knew about Marcus."
His mother sighed.
"Come inside."
"No."
"Daniel."
"How long?"
She looked tired.
"Almost a year."
Daniel stared at her.
"Everyone knew except me."
"Not everyone."
"My own mother."
"Emily needed help."
"So you helped her lie."
"I helped a child."
Daniel laughed bitterly.
"That's what she says too."
Margaret's eyes sharpened.
"Maybe because it's true."
Daniel stepped back.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Make me the villain because I'm angry."
"I would never."
"Then don't defend what she did."
Margaret was silent.
After a moment, she opened the door wider.