Evelyn looked over, offering her mother a soft, tearful smile. “I feel like myself again, Mom. I forgot what that felt like.”
The back screen door clicked open, and Julian stepped out onto the porch. He wore his familiar faded flannel shirt and dark jeans, carrying two fresh mugs of coffee. The gray in his beard caught the golden afternoon light, and his movements were unhurried, steady, and thoroughly grounded. To anyone passing by on the quiet suburban street, he looked like any ordinary middle-aged father enjoying a quiet weekend at home.
None of the neighbors would ever guess that six weeks prior, this ordinary man had systematically dismantled an entire criminal ring using nothing more than his bare hands and fifteen years of Force Recon expertise.
Julian set a mug down beside Eleanor, then walked over to the bench and sat beside Evelyn. He didn’t say anything at first; he simply wrapped a broad, calloused arm around his daughter’s shoulders and pulled her close to his side. Evelyn leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she breathed in the familiar scent of cedar, coffee, and soap.
