"You like snow."
"I respect snow from indoors."
Lily grinned.
"Daddy."
He knew that tone.
Ten minutes later, all four were outside.
Emma threw the first snowball.
It hit Marcus directly in the chest.
He stared at her.
Emma froze.
Lily screamed with laughter.
Victoria covered her mouth.
Marcus bent down slowly.
Scooped snow into both hands.
"Run."
The girls ran.
Victoria did not.
Bad decision.
Marcus's second snowball caught her shoulder.
Victoria gasped.
"Marcus Webb."
"Victoria Ashford."
"You are dead."
"Strong words from executive leadership."
She threw one back.
Missed completely.
Marcus laughed.
So did she.
The girls circled them.
Snow gathered along the roofline.
Streetlights turned the falling flakes silver.
For a few minutes, nobody was thinking about hospitals, boardrooms, grief, careers, blood types, job titles, or apologies.
Only snow.
Children.
Laughter.
Later, Marcus stood near the porch while the girls tried to build something that was supposedly a snowman and looked more like a collapsed traffic cone.
Victoria came beside him.
"Cold?"
"Very."
"You could go inside."
"So could you."
They watched Emma place a stick sideways into the snowman.
Lily objected.
A diplomatic crisis began.
Victoria smiled.
"Do you ever think about that morning?"
Marcus knew which one.
"Sometimes."
"I do too."
He looked at her.
Victoria's voice softened.
"I used to wish I could erase it."
"What you said?"
"Everything."
"The lobby."
"Hospital."
"Fear."
"All of it."
Marcus turned toward the girls.
"And now?"
"I would erase Emma getting hurt."
"In a heartbeat."
"But I don't want to erase what I learned afterward."
Marcus nodded.
"That's different."
Victoria slipped her hand into his.
Years earlier, she might have assumed he would take it.
Now she waited.
Marcus closed his fingers around hers.
Across the yard, Emma shouted:
"Mom! Marcus! Stop standing there! We need help!"
Lily added:
"The head fell off!"
Marcus sighed.
"Engineering emergency."
Victoria glanced at him.
"Can you fix it?"
He looked at the collapsed snowman.
"No."
Her eyebrow lifted.
"You used to build aircraft systems."
"Different tolerances."
They walked toward the girls together.
And Marcus thought, not for the first time, about the morning Victoria had looked at him and seen only a uniform.
He had once believed the lesson of that day belonged to her.
Do not judge people by their work.
Do not confuse status with worth.
Do not mistake power for character.
All true.
But the years afterward had taught Marcus something too.
He had spent a long time believing dignity meant never needing anything from anyone.
Never accepting the ride.
Never accepting opportunity.
Never admitting he wanted to return to engineering.
Never risking love again.
Sarah's death had taught him how quickly the things you build could vanish, and Marcus had answered by reducing his life to the parts he could control.