Chapter 11

Ethan’s first semester at Stanford had gone remarkably well. His classes were challenging but manageable, and he was confident he would receive A’s across the board. His dual major in Languages and Chemistry kept him busy, but he thrived in the demanding environment.

Beyond academics, he had reached a significant milestone—he had completed his pilot training and earned his VFR (Visual Flight Rules) license. It was an achievement he took great pride in, and he had already scheduled instrument training for when he returned to school.

His relationship with Patricia had also flourished. Over the weeks, they had grown inseparable, and by Christmas break, she spent more nights in his room than in her own. What had started as a deep friendship had blossomed into something much more. As finals ended and students prepared to leave, Patricia’s parents bought her a ticket home, and she and Ethan shared a long, passionate night before parting ways. Though he would miss her, Ethan was excited to see his family again.

Returning home was both comforting and eye-opening. His parents were fascinated by his stories from the road—his daring rescue in Kansas City, his adventures in Texas, and his encounter with a bank robbery in Flagstaff. Though they were proud of how he had handled himself, they couldn’t help but feel concerned. In only a few months, Ethan had experienced more action and danger than most people did in a lifetime. Silently, they wondered what the rest of his life would be like.

His father, always the disciplinarian, suggested they spar to keep his training sharp. They had always practiced full-contact, but Ethan failed to notice the subtle change—his father was struggling to keep up. His strength, speed, and confidence had grown since leaving home. At the end of the match, they bowed to each other, and his father did his best to stand tall as he walked to the shower. Once behind closed doors, however, he let out a quiet whimper of pain. His wife raised an eyebrow as she watched him stiffly move.

“You should know better than to go at it without pads,” she scolded gently. “Ethan’s not the same boy who left for Stanford. He’s stronger now.”

His father sighed, rubbing his sore ribs. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right.”

Christmas morning was filled with warmth and laughter. Ethan presented his mother with a beautiful set of pearl earrings, which she immediately put on as his dad laughingly told him to stop one-upping him. His father received two gifts—one was a gag, a walker Ethan had picked up at a yard sale, which earned a hearty laugh from his mother. The real gift, however, was a gift certificate for a set of golf clubs he had been eyeing.

“I saw you looking at them the other day and thought you’d enjoy learning something new,” Ethan said with a grin.

His parents had gone all out for Ethan’s gift. Knowing about his flight training, they had purchased several items every pilot needed—an expensive pair of non-polarized sunglasses, a Bose A30 aviation headset, a subscription for his iPad that included all available flight charts, and a kneeboard to hold everything in place during flights.