And then he did a strange thing, a thing that made my husband’s smile flicker for the first time: he reached up, removed his hearing aids, and set them down on the tray beside my bed, with great care, the way you set down something you will not be needing for a moment.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said to me, gently.

And I understood what he was doing, and it was not what Trent thought it was — but I closed my eyes anyway, because my father had asked me to, and because some things are easier to begin in the dark.

Chapter 7 — Recognition

It was Gerald who saw it first.

As my father lowered his arm from the curtain, his sleeve slid back, and the faded tattoo along his forearm came into the light — old military ink, gone soft and blue with the decades.

I did not see Gerald’s face change, because my eyes were closed.