Sunday was Mother's Lewis, and Sabrina had arrived at the Murray residence the day before, dropped off by Cullen's personal driver. For Veronica, she had crafted a handmade card with careful precision, inscribing the simple yet heartfelt ssage: "Happy Mother's Lewis, Mom. Love you."
"Do you like it?" Sabrina asked eagerly, holding the card out. "The teacher said I could ask Dad for help, but he's been super busy lately. I did everything all by myself—the design, all the patterns, and I even glued these tiny hearts on."
Veronica studied the card, noticing how much Sabrina's handwriting had improved since she'd last seen her daughter working on howork. The letters were neater, more controlled, showing her growing maturity.
As she examined the thoughtful gift, an unbidden mory surfaced from the previous year. She had flown across continents to Bella, hoping to celebrate her birthday with Cullen and Sabrina. Instead, she'd found her daughter completely engrossed in polishing a bracelet—not for her, but for Niall. According to Sabrina, it had been a special project she and Cullen had worked on together.
The mory stung, but Veronica maintained her composure, her expression revealing nothing of her inner thoughts. She carefully closed the card and responded with asured warmth, "It's very pretty. Thank you, sweetheart."
The following day, Malcolm called Veronica, and that evening found her back at the military base, imrsed in her work at the data center. She was so focused that she didn't notice Edric enter the room until she reached for her water cup and caught sight of him standing nearby, watching her.
She acknowledged him with a brief nod before returning to her screen, fingers flying across the keyboard as she analyzed patterns in the data.
Edric had co to the center with specific tasks in mind. After concluding his business with the other personnel, he noticed Veronica was still deeply involved in her work. He approached her desk.
"It's getting late," he remarked. "Aren't you going to get sothing to eat?"
Veronica glanced up. "I will—in a bit."
With a nod, Edric left her to her work without further interruption.
Later, when Veronica finally stepped out of the data center, she was surprised to find Edric waiting in the hallway. He appeared to have been there for so ti, leaning against the wall with patient stillness.
Hearing her footsteps, he turned and offered a smile. "Finished at last? Heading to the cafeteria?"
"Yes," she replied, then added, "You?"
"Mind if I join you?"
Veronica paused, the realization dawning on her—he had been waiting specifically for her. Rather than disturb her concentration, he had chosen to wait outside, giving her the space she needed to complete her work.
As they walked, Edric spoke with genuine appreciation in his voice. "I'm sure you've reviewed the footage from my mission last week. In a very real way, it was you who saved out there."
Every pilot developed distinctive flight patterns and combat instincts over ti. These individualized techniques were born from experience and natural intuition, but in an era of advanced artificial intelligence, such patterns could be digitized, analyzed, and exploited by enemy systems.
Based on Edric's historical combat behavior and the enemy data she had compiled, Veronica's system had identified his intended maneuver as predictable. It had flagged the danger and provided an alternative strategy, accurately forecasting the enemy's position and movent trajectory while calculating the optimal counter-response.
It was this guidance that had allowed Edric to evade what could have been a fatal encounter.
"I was just doing my job," Veronica responded modestly. "Besides, you remained level-headed and made the crucial decision in that mont. You saved yourself."
Perhaps she viewed it as rely fulfilling her responsibilities, but since that mission, Edric had heard nurous colleagues praising her work—particularly her exceptional data processing abilities and analytical acun. Beyond the technical skills, many had comnted on her uncanny intuition for tactical situations that couldn't be taught.
Edric was about to express more of his gratitude when Malcolm appeared in the corridor, his expression serious and purposeful.
"Co with ," he said to Veronica, his tone leaving no room for delay.
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