“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is he?”
“He’s receiving medical care.”
The airport seemed to tilt.
“What happened?”
“There was a complication.”
“What kind?”
He hesitated.
One baby began crying.
Her sister followed.
I bent over the stroller, fumbling for a pacifier.
My hands shook so badly I dropped it.
“Please,” I whispered.
“I have his children here. Don’t make me guess what’s happened to their father.”
He looked at their outfits.
“I served with Jeremy. My name’s Daniel.”
I knew the name.
Jeremy had spoken about him for months.
“He asked me to meet you.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t want you coming to see him yet.”
I straightened.
“What?”
“He wants you to go home.”
“He’s alive, and he doesn’t want his wife?”
