WE FIGHT AS ONE

et, casting a warm orange glow over the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets below. Reg's mi

he living room. He turned to see Maria sitting on the couch, her sketchb

ty, wondering what Maria was drawing. As he watched, Maria's pencil mo

y Maria's talent. He felt a glimpse of vulnerability, a s

oked up, her eyes meeting Reg's. For a moment, they j

to Maria's eyes. He saw something there, some

r. "I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," she said, her voice barely

intruding, Maria," he said, his voice a little softer than

e saw a hint of a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Thomp

feeling that he had just glimpsed something sp