Maya stopped nibbling her cracker and listened intently. Children sense more than adults realize; she felt the gravity linking me to this pilot.
“Did my daddy get hurt helping your brother?” Maya asked, her voice clear and innocent. She put a hand on my knee above where the prosthesis joined my leg.
“He did, sweetheart,” Thomas answered gently. “Your daddy gave up a piece of himself so my brother could come home to his family. He is the bravest man I have ever had on this plane.”
Maya looked up at me, her chest puffing out beneath her worn coat. “I told the kids at school my daddy was a hero, but Tommy Jenkins said heroes don’t walk with sticks.”
“Tommy Jenkins doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Thomas said firmly, winking at Maya. “Real heroes carry their battle scars quietly, and they use canes because they carried others through the fire.”
I cleared my throat, blinking away the stinging moisture in my eyes. “Thomas, why was Daniel’s name on your manifest today? You mentioned a cargo ledger earlier when we were boarding the aircraft.”
