Chapter 2
Daniel’s duffel bag slipped from his shoulder and hit the floor.
He looked at the bowl.
At his mother’s thin wrists.
At the folded paper lying beside her hand.
Then back at Lauren.
“Mom,” he said slowly, “why are you eating in the kitchen?”
Margaret lowered her head.
Lauren stepped forward too quickly.
“I can explain.”
Daniel didn’t look at her.
Not yet.
He walked toward the table.
Lauren moved to block him.
It was only a half-step.
Small.
Nervous.
Instinctive.
But Daniel saw it.
Eight months overseas had taught him to notice tiny things.
A wire buried wrong.
A footprint facing the wrong direction.
A man smiling before a bomb went off.
Lauren wasn’t surprised he had come home.
She was afraid.
That was different.
Daniel stepped around her without touching her.
His mother whispered, “Please… don’t tell him.”
Those words hurt more than the bowl.
Daniel crouched beside her chair.
“Tell me what?”
Margaret shook her head, tears slipping down her face.
Lauren swallowed.
“Daniel, she’s confused. She’s been emotional lately. Your mom exaggerates things.”
Daniel finally looked at his wife.
Then his eyes drifted back to the folded paper.
A hospital form.
He reached for it.
Lauren’s hand snapped out.
“Don’t.”
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Daniel froze.
Read Part 3 to find out why one folded hospital form scared Lauren more than Daniel coming home early.
