Chapter 1 – Difficult Decisions
The digital clock on the bedside table read 4:17 AM. Grant Tucker-Pritchett's room was plunged into the bluish twilight of dawn, the only light coming from the streetlamp, filtered through the partially closed blinds. The glow cast geometric shadows on the opposite wall, creating a hypnotic pattern he had been staring at for over an hour. Sleep wouldn't come.
The decision was made. Its weight pressed against his chest like a concrete block.
The 18-year-old ran his hands over his face, feeling the roughness of his scruffy beard. His slightly messy brown hair fell across his forehead. He held his breath for a moment, trying to silence his chaotic thoughts, but they wouldn't budge.
His gaze wandered to the dresser beside his bed. The US Army recruitment brochure lay there, folded in half, as if hiding its entirety made it less real. The eagle on the cover seemed to be watching him.
Grant squinted, tossed the blanket aside, and sat on the edge of the bed. The wood floor creaked lightly under his bare feet. He needed air.
Wearing only an old T-shirt and sweat shorts, he got up and left the room with measured steps. The Pritchett-Tucker house was completely silent. The only audible sound was the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
He passed Lily's room, his younger sister, who was fast asleep, cuddling a stuffed panda. Cam and Mitchell's door was ajar, and he could hear his adoptive parents' even breathing.
He walked into the living room and unlocked the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. The cool early morning air immediately enveloped him.
The grass was damp under his feet. He crossed his arms, staring up at the dark sky. There were barely any stars visible, but the moon provided enough light to make the moment solemn.
The silence of the night was a stark contrast to the storm inside him.
6:32 AM
The smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen when Grant finally decided to come in. Mitchell was standing next to the coffee maker, still wearing his navy blue silk robe. His sleepy eyes widened when he saw his adopted son enter.
"Wow, up at this hour? Who are you, and what have you done with Grant?"
The young man let out a short laugh, pulling up a chair.
"I just couldn't sleep very well."
Mitchell narrowed his eyes, studying him for a moment before turning back to his coffee.
"Want some?"
Grant nodded, running a hand through his messy hair.
The silence between them stretched for a few moments. The hum of the coffee maker filled the room.
Mitchell placed a mug in front of him.
"You look like you're going to tell me something I won't like."
Grant squeezed the rim of the mug between his fingers.
"Yeah... I'm going to enlist."
The silence that followed was almost deafening.
Mitchell blinked a few times, as if trying to process the information. Then he laughed nervously.
"Sorry, I thought you said you're going to enlist."
"I did."
The mug in Mitchell's hand hovered in midair for a few seconds before he finally set it down on the counter.
"Okay, okay... What do you mean by 'enlist'? Like... the Army?"
"Yeah."
Mitchell laughed again, but this time there was a hint of disbelief mixed with panic.
"Okay, Grant... You've always been a witty kid, and I love that about you, but early morning pranks aren't your thing."
"I'm not kidding."
Mitchell stopped.
"Cam!" he yelled abruptly, looking down the hallway. "Cam, get up now!"
Grant closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh.
A few seconds later, Cameron Tucker appeared in the kitchen, his face scrunched with sleep and his hair a complete mess. He was wearing cow-print flannel pajamas.
"What?" He yawned.
Mitchell pointed at Grant as if he were a ticking time bomb.
"Your son just said he's enlisting!"
Cam's expression went from sleepy to a mix of shock and dread.
"What?!"
He hurriedly pulled out a chair and sat next to Grant.
"Son... What's going on?"
Grant knew this conversation would be difficult. He had rehearsed how to explain, but now, under his parents' distressed gazes, the words seemed shaky.
"I... I've been thinking about it for a while. Ever since I turned 18. It's something I really want to do."
Mitchell crossed his arms.
"What do you mean, 'really want to do it'? Like, you woke up one day and thought, 'You know what would be cool? Put my life on the line!'"
"Mitchell!" Cam scolded him.
Grant ran his hands over his face in frustration.
"It's not about that! I want to serve. I want... a purpose. Something bigger than myself."
Mitchell shook his head.
"You have a purpose! You have a family! You have a life here!"
Cam looked at her husband and then back to Grant, his voice softer.
"Grant... Does this it have to do with your past?
He looked away.
"It's not about the past, Cam. It's about the future."
There was a charged silence.
"When?" Cam finally asked.
"Next week."
Mitchell took a step back, as if punched in the chest.
"Next week? You didn't even think to tell us before?"
"I wanted to, but... I knew you'd react this way."
"How did you want us to react?" Mitchell's voice cracked slightly.
Cam ran his hand over Grant's arm, squeezing it gently.
"Have you signed anything yet?"
Grant nodded.
Mitchell laughed humorlessly.
"So you've already decided. We were just here to watch."
"It's not like that..."
"No?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh my God. I... I need a moment."
Mitchell left the kitchen abruptly.
Cam stood there, staring at Grant with teary eyes.
"You know we love you, right?"
Grant felt a lump in his throat.
"I know."
Cam sighed, holding his hand for a moment before letting go.
"Just... give us time to process this."
Grant nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle on his shoulders.
He knew it would be difficult. But still, he wouldn't back down.
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