“Your mother is a hero,” Greg said, looking at Leo, then at Mia. “She protected this country, and she protected this family. And I am deeply, profoundly sorry for disrespecting her, and for hurting you.

I was wrong. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

He stood there a long moment, exposed, stripped of his armor, offering the most terrifying vulnerability a man like him could manage.

Leo looked at him. The thirteen-year-old boy who’d been pushed into the dirt sat up a little straighter. He looked at me, then back at his uncle.

“Thank you, Uncle Greg,” Leo said quietly. “I accept your apology.”

Greg let out a long, shuddering breath, as though a physical weight had come off his shoulders. He sat down heavily and wiped his eyes with a napkin.