“Your daughter doesn’t want to fight in a war.”
“Then she has some sense.”
Slouching against the couch arm, Melissa looked up at the ceiling and blinked. “I thought I could handle it, Dad,” she mumbled. “I’ve had people shooting at me. At first, it’s terrifying, but you realize you have the skills to deal with it.”
She closed her eyes and sniffled, a tear sliding down her cheek. “But this…” she whispered, shaking her head. “It was like fighting the terminator.”
“I know. It was like that for me too.”
She sat bolt upright.
Harry was hunched over in his chair, one hand resting on the table. “New York,” he said in response to her unasked question. “I fought one of those things. It nearly tore me to pieces. If not for Ben…”
“You never told me that.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
Their
