Emma stepped aside.
They sat at the small kitchen table beneath the folded flag on the mantle. Bear did not speak about Vance until Emma asked.
“What did you mean yesterday? Ten seconds to understand what?”
Bear rubbed one scarred thumb along the paper cup.
“I was angry.”
“I noticed.”
“I was going to tell him he had ten seconds to understand that Daniel spent his life protecting people who had less power in the room, and that hitting you in front of Daniel’s teammates was about the stupidest way imaginable to prove he deserved authority.”
Emma looked at the dog tags hanging at her throat.
“You knew him well.”
Bear nodded.
“He saved my life.”
The words were simple.
Emma had heard versions before. Daniel rarely talked about operations, and his teammates had respected that silence after he died.
Bear continued.
“We were pinned during a night movement. I went down hard. Daniel had a clean route out with the rest of the element. Instead, he came back through fire, dragged me behind cover, and stayed until the medic reached us.”
Emma swallowed.
“He never told me.”
“He probably told you he had a boring week.”
She laughed softly.
“He said the food was terrible.”
“That too.”
Bear looked at the flag.
“He wasn’t fearless. People get that wrong. He was scared plenty. He just never used fear as permission to leave someone alone.”
Emma’s eyes moved toward the bruise reflected faintly in the dark television screen.
“Then why did all of you leave me alone after the funeral?”
Bear went still.
The question had been inside her for months, maybe years.
“You brought casseroles. You stood in my living room. You told me to call. Then everybody went back to work.”
Bear’s face tightened.
“We thought we were giving you space.”
