“Your brother was Lieutenant Daniel Hayes,” I said softly. The captain nodded. “He was.” His voice cracked as he continued, “You carried him nearly two hundred yards while the rest of us thought nobody had survived.”
I looked down at my cane. “There were people who needed help,” I said. “That’s all.” The captain shook his head. “No, Marcus. My brother told me about you until the day he died.”
The cabin had become so silent that Maya’s small voice sounded unusually loud. “Did my daddy save someone?” she asked. The captain crouched so he could meet her eyes. “Your daddy saved my brother’s life.”
Maya looked at me with wide eyes. For the first time, I saw something different in her expression—not confusion about why her father walked differently, but pride. She reached for my hand and held it tightly.
Behind us, the businessman cleared his throat. “Captain, there appears to have been a misunderstanding.” The captain stood and faced him. “There was,” he said calmly. “The misunderstanding was believing money entitled you to another passenger’s seat.”
