My father put Noah into his rear-facing car seat, buckled the harness straps across his chest, and shut the rear door with a soft click.

He turned to Ethan and held out his hand, giving him a single, firm handshake before walking around to the driver’s side.

I opened the front passenger door and carefully eased my booted leg onto the floor mat.

Ethan stood by the open door, watching me settle into the seat.

“I’ll meet you at your father’s quarters after I finish loading my tool chest,” Ethan said softly.

“All right,” I said.