You had a kid. His name was Jack. He was 4 years old, but you didn’t tell the team. While you were here with the Army, Jack stayed home with your wife, Shauna. So did the baby, your daughter, born after you deployed. You hadn’t met her yet.

Everyone was in a line, standing still, hands behind their backs, eyes forward, unmoving.

People were getting tapped out one by one.

Then came the sound of footsteps. Light, fast, familiar.

Jack broke from the crowd, running straight toward you. No hesitation.

He threw his arms around your legs and held on tight. “I missed you.”

You were tapped out.

Shauna was just a few steps behind him, walking slowly, carefully. In her arms was a small bundle, tiny, wrapped in a soft blanket. Your daughter, Callie. The one you’d only seen through grainy video calls and pictures.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t move. Just looked. Your whole world was standing right in front of you.

And finally, breathed.