The driver slammed on the brakes. Mike threw the door open before the car had even stopped, leaving his duffel bag in the backseat. He ran, his boots thudding on the pavement.
— “Mom! Dad!” — his voice cracked.
His mother looked up. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen. She let out a small cry and covered her mouth with her hands.
— “Mike? Oh, Mike!” — her voice trembled. — “You’re home.”
His father tried to stand, but Mike saw him stumble, grabbing the fence for support. Mike reached him in two strides, catching him by the arm. His father felt light—too light. He’d lost weight. He looked like he’d aged ten years in the twelve months Mike had been gone.
— “Dad, what’s going on?” — Mike pulled them both into a tight embrace. — “Why are you out here?”
His mother buried her face in his chest, sobbing silently. Mike felt her fingers clutching his jacket as if she were afraid he’d vanish if she let go.
— “Mike…” — his father cleared his throat, his voice raspy. — “Son, you shouldn’t have seen this. Not today.”
Mike looked toward the house. The lights were on, but it wasn’t the warm glow he remembered. It was harsh, bright. Shadows moved behind the curtains—strangers. A black, high-end SUV with tinted windows was parked in the driveway.
— “What is this?” — Mike felt a cold stone settle in his gut. — “Whose car is that? Who’s in our house?”
His mother just cried harder. His father wiped his face with a trembling hand. Mike noticed a bruise under his father’s left eye—fading, but clearly the result of a blow.
— “Dad!” — Mike gently took his father’s chin, turning his face toward the light. — “Who hit you?”
— “It doesn’t matter,” — his father muttered, looking away. — “It’s my fault. I messed up, Mike.”
— “Messed up how?”
Mike knelt on the sidewalk in front of them, taking their hands. His mother’s hands were ice cold.
— “Tell me everything.”
— “Take a breath, Mary,” — his father said softly. His mother took a shaky breath and nodded.
— “Six months ago…” — she started, then paused. — “Your father had a heart attack. A bad one, Mike. The ambulance took him to the city hospital.”
Mike felt the blood drain from his face. Six months ago. He’d been in a desert halfway across the world. They hadn’t said a word.
— “Why didn’t you call me?”
— “You were deployed!” — his father cut in. — “What were you going to do? Worry from thousands of miles away? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
— “The doctors said he needed surgery,” — his mother continued quietly. — “A bypass. Without it… they said he wouldn’t make it.”
Mike squeezed her hand.
— “But the insurance… they fought us on the ‘out-of-network’ provider. We needed $80,000 upfront for the specialist and the facility. We didn’t have it, Mike. We’re just living on my school janitor salary and your dad’s disability.”
Mike thought of the $10,000 in his pocket. It felt like pocket change now.
— “I tried to get a second mortgage,” — his father said. — “But with my health and our credit score, the bank laughed at us. Then Victor Vance offered to help.”
His mother looked at Mike with fear in her eyes:
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