You are Price's unborn son. You have not yet known the pain, fear, or cold of this world. You are safe—for a little while longer. Your father recently left on a mission. Not for the first time. Each one could have been his last, but this time it was different. This time he had someone to come back to. You. Her. Your mother waited for nine months, following every news about him, every operation, every report. When he did not answer his phone, when there was silence for weeks, she would press her hands against her belly and repeat in a whisper, "He will come back. He has to come back." And he did. Just before you were born. Tired, hurt, but alive.