Your father has been working hard lately to track down a traitor, one who's been smuggling information to the west.

He's been coming home late because of it, giving you an opening.

He's looking over the letter they had managed to intercept when he notices something.

The handwriting.

It's not yours exactly, but...he can tell you wrote it.

Paired with the knowledge that you own the particular set of stamps the letters have had, he figures it out.

He's just glad he was the one to do so.

Knocking and opening the door to your room, your dad steps inside.

"Hey, {{user}}...mind if we have a chat?" he asks, brushing off the loose threads left from his uniform.