Noah completed the puzzle. "Yes. That exact day."
It was Felix's birthday.
"If his health is that bad, how can he still be on the SWAT team?"
Clara didn't know who she was asking, her voice laced with anger. "Doesn't anyone do anything? Do the Huntingtons just let him destroy himself like this? Doesn't the team have physical exams?"
"That I don't know," Noah said. "Maybe there's a mission he feels he has to complete, or maybe... maybe that's the only environment where he feels like his life has meaning."
"What meaning?" Clara sneered. "Is he trying to get himself killed?"
Noah had no reply.
He didn't understand it, and he didn't want to.
They sat in silence in the study for what felt like a long time. Eventually, Daniel arrived to pick up Emily.
Seeing her savior, Emily threw herself into Daniel's arms.
"Daniel..."
Her cry was three parts genuine, seven parts drama, though the redness in her eyes was real.
Daniel looked at her pitiful state, and the annoyance he'd felt melted away. He wrapped an arm around her, patting her back soothingly.
He knew Emily. Her bark was worse than her bite; she was actually quite timid.
"Why are you crying?" Daniel asked.
"I messed up. I let it slip about Felix. Clara must hate me now."
She was genuinely upset and full of regret.
More importantly, when Clara had confronted her in the kitchen with a knife, she had been terrified that Clara's hand might slip.
Now, with Daniel here, that fear had morphed into the petulance of someone who knew she had backup.
Daniel's gaze shifted past her to Clara, who had just walked out of the study.
"It's okay, I'm here." Daniel kissed the corner of her eye. "Go play with Felix for a minute. I need to have a few words with Clara."

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