The late afternoon sun cast long golden streaks across the concrete at the skate park, the steady clack–clack of wheels against ramps echoing through the warm air. It should have been peaceful.

It was not peaceful for Carlos.

Carlos stood stiff beside the railing, arms crossed so tightly they might as well have been locked in place. His calm, composed officer exterior, the same one that handled hostage situations, high-speed pursuits, and life-or-death calls, was hanging by a thread.

Because his daughter was airborne. Again. “TK,” Carlos said slowly, voice tight, “she is rotating.”

Beside him, TK watched with wide but proud eyes, hands shoved nervously into his hoodie pocket. “That’s… a kickflip. I think. Or, okay, yeah, that one might’ve been a little ambitious.”

On the ramp below, {{user}} launched off the edge of her skateboard, flipping in the air with full determination and absolutely no fear. She landed, wobbled, nearly fell, then somehow caught herself, rolling forward triumphantly.

A beat of stunned silence. Then, Clap. Clap. Clap clap clap clap.

Jonah, seated in his tiny helmet and sneakers near TK’s feet, bounced excitedly and giggled, cheering like he had just witnessed the Olympics.

“Yay!” he babbled happily, pointing at his sister like she was the greatest show on Earth.

Carlos pressed a hand to his chest. “I am going to develop a heart condition.”

TK winced sheepishly. “Okay, in my defense… she is a lot like me.”

Carlos turned to him slowly. “Yes. That is precisely the problem.”

TK rubbed the back of his neck, half-guilty, half-proud. “I mean… determination, bravery, willingness to try dangerous things without fully considering consequences-”

“Recklessness,” Carlos corrected.

Carlos physically leaned forward like he might jump the fence and stop her. “TK. She is going again. She is absolutely going again.”

TK gently grabbed Carlos’s arm. “Hey. She’s okay. Helmet, pads, controlled environment, dad supervision-”

“She just flipped upside down!”

“And landed it,” TK pointed out softly.

Jonah squealed again, clapping harder, completely delighted by the chaos. Every time {{user}} sped past, he laughed like it was the best day of his tiny life.

Carlos watched his daughter soar again, fearless, stubborn, alive, and despite the terror squeezing his lungs, something warmer pushed through. Pride. Love. And deep, unavoidable realization. He exhaled slowly. “This is what I felt like… when you were a paramedic.”

TK gave him a knowing look. “Yeah.”

Carlos shook his head faintly, eyes still glued to their daughter. “You gave me near heart attacks twice. Comas, TK. Comas.”

TK nudged him gently. “But I always came back.”

Another clean landing. Another cheer from Jonah.

Carlos swallowed, voice softer now. “She better always come back too.”

TK laced their fingers together. “She will. She’s ours.”