"How long?"
Emma looked away.
"Six months."
"Six months?"
"He helped with things."
"What things?"
Emma started crying.
"After you were gone..."
Michael felt his jaw tighten.
"After I was gone."
"Yes."
"That's what you call it?"
"Michael."
"No."
He shook his head.
"Say it."
Emma looked at him.
"Say what?"
"Say I left."
Her eyes filled.
"You were deployed."
"But you said after I was gone."
Silence.
That was the truth.
Michael had been physically gone.
But he had never stopped being a husband.
At least he thought he hadn't.
He looked at Daniel.
"What exactly did you help with?"
Daniel finally spoke.
"Eli—"
Michael's eyes narrowed.
"Who is Eli?"
Daniel stopped.
Emma immediately looked toward the stairs.
Michael followed her gaze.
Then he heard it.
A small voice.
"Dad?"
Everything changed.
Michael froze.
At the top of the stairs stood Lily.
His daughter.
Nine years old.
Older.
Taller.
Her hair longer.
Her face different.
But still his little girl.
For one moment, all anger disappeared.
"Dad?"
Michael could barely breathe.
"Lily."
She ran down.
He caught her.
Held her.
She buried her face against his shoulder.
He closed his eyes.
This was what he had dreamed about.
This.
His daughter.
His family.
Except something was wrong.
Because while he held her, he could feel the other man standing nearby.
Lily pulled back.