As the plane began its descent, Elise imagined her father driving with shaking hands, questions colliding with hope. The veteran kept his gaze lowered, gripping the armrests, as though bracing for a judgment he feared he deserved.
He looked at Elise with eyes full of apology. “He might hate me,” he whispered. “For not being there. For leaving.” Elise shook her head gently. “If anyone will understand, he will,” she said. “Because Grandma did.” The veteran closed his eyes, letting her words steady him.