On the way up the valley to see my next patient, I dropped by my cabin to change clothes. I used a washcloth for a quick spot clean since my body reeked of musky sweat, combined with the fresh, earthy smell of potting soil. Hank’s words replayed in my mind as I attempted to sort through the intel I gained. I felt a fondness for Hank because he reminded me of my dad. His unwavering devotion to his coworkers and friends resembled the way my dad treated the other agents with which he worked. Hank’s tough exterior didn’t completely mask his caring nature. The more I thought about him, the more I missed my dad. I hadn’t talked to him since before I left for Shotgun and, because of protocol, I wouldn’t speak with him until I returned to D.C.
During my drive, I wondered what he would think of Sh
