The call to end my final mission came faster than I expected.One moment I was reviewing the last security report in the operations room overseas.The next I was packing my duffel bag.
Forty years in uniform had taught me to move quickly.But this felt different.I wasn’t just leaving a base.I was leaving the life I’d built to protect my country, carrying it in my jacket pocket.
The weight of my father’s pocket watch pressed against me.
He’d given it to me before my first deployment, telling me to always come home.
I had—time and again.
But this return wasn’t planned.
I hadn’t told anyone, not even my son.
The overnight flight to Miami was a blur of engine hum and restless thoughts.
I stared out the window at the thin line of dawn stretching across the Atlantic and wondered if Daniel would be at work or still asleep when I knocked on his door.
I pictured his smile—the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed—and it was enough to carry me through the turbulence.
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