My assistant, Dana, appeared in my doorway.
“Everything all right?”
I turned my phone toward her.
She read the message and frowned.
“You’re not seriously going, are you?”
I looked back out at the city lights beneath my window.
Then I smiled.
“Oh, I’m absolutely going.”
Christmas morning was cold, bright, and covered in white.
The helicopter rose above the Texas skyline with me and the four most important people in my life inside.
“Mama, are we really meeting Grandpa today?” Noah asked, his eyes shining.
“And Grandma too?” Sophia added.
I smiled softly.
“Maybe.”
Across from me sat my children in matching Christmas outfits.
Two boys.
Two girls.
Quadruplets.
Eight years old.
All four had Marcus’s eyes, his smile, and that same stubborn line in their jaws.
No one could look at them and miss the truth.
After months away on duty, I came home expecting my wife’s P2
