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Across the restaurant, someone gasped softly.
“Every Saturday, I tell her stories about her dad—the good ones. The brave ones. The man he used to be before the war. I’m the only bridge she’s got to that version of him.”
Lily looked up from her crayons. “Uncle Bear was there when I was born,” she said proudly. “Daddy said he cried.”
“Did not,” Bear said, feigning gruffness. “Had dust in my eye.”
“You cried,” she giggled. “Daddy said you promised to protect me.”
The lead officer smiled faintly and handed the paper back. “Sir, we’re sorry for the misunderstanding. And thank you—for your service and for keeping your word.”Continue reading…
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