She looked over.
“Yes, sir?”
Marcus glanced at his son, then back at her.
“That day, when you said something wasn’t right…
thank you for saying it even though I didn’t listen.”
Emily nodded.
“Just listen next time.”
Marcus looked down at Zion.
The baby grabbed his father’s collar and gave it a determined tug.
Marcus laughed softly.
“I will.”
Months earlier, losing his wife had convinced Marcus that protecting the people he loved meant controlling every variable around them.
But Zion’s illness taught him something control never had.
Protection sometimes meant admitting that another person had seen what you had missed.
Sometimes the quietest person in the room was holding the most important piece of information.
And sometimes the most dangerous mistake was not making the wrong decision.
It was becoming so certain of your authority that you stopped listening before anyone could tell you the truth.
