My Mom Flies An Fighter Jet

photograph. Thinner. One side of his face scarred from temple to jaw. But alive.

Rachel, he said, smiling faintly. Still running toward danger. I always admired that.

Mom stepped in front of me. Where is Carter?

Safe. For now.

What do you want?

Voss leaned closer to the camera. Not what. Who. His eyes shifted, as if he could see through the screen directly continue reading …