De hoofdofficier naderde voorzichtig. ‘Meneer, we hebben berichten gehad…’
‘Ik weet waarom je hier bent,’ onderbrak Bear met vaste stem. Hij reikte langzaam en voorzichtig in zijn vest en haalde er een gevouwen, gelamineerd gerechtelijk document uit. Hij overhandigde het zonder argument.
De officier las zwijgend. Zijn gezichtsuitdrukking veranderde. Hij keek naar Beer, toen naar Lily, toen weer naar de pagina.
“You served with her father,” the officer said quietly.
Bear nodded once. “Three tours in Afghanistan. He saved my life. I saved his. We were brothers in every way but blood.”
The officer cleared his throat. “This says you have legal visitation rights.”
“That’s right. Her daddy—my brother—came home broken. PTSD. A brain injury that never healed. He tried to hold on, but the nightmares were too much. His marriage collapsed. His wife moved on. He made mistakes… one bad choice that landed him in prison.”
Bear’s voice cracked slightly as he went on. “Before they took him away, he made me promise. Promise that Lily would never forget he loved her. Promise she’d hear stories about him as the hero he really was—not the broken man the world saw.”
Lily looked up from her crayons. “Daddy said Uncle Bear cried when I was born,” she said solemnly.
Bear smiled faintly. “Had something in my eye, kiddo.”
“You cried,” she insisted, grinning.
The officers handed back the papers. “We’re sorry for the misunderstanding, sir. Thank you for your service.”
But Bear wasn’t done.
