Chapter Two

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"We're here to celebrate and to raise a glass to one of our own," Captain says, lifting his glass. Everyone, including me, raises theirs in unison. "And I sincerely hope that one day, your namesake follows in the footsteps of his old-ass grandpa to protect and serve our fair city. To Marcus!"

The room erupts in cheers and clinking glasses. I wasn't originally invited, but we're celebrating the birth of little Marcus, and I wouldn't miss this for the world. Also, I don't really have much free time because of my job, so when I overheard dad telling mom he'd be out with Mike and his team to celebrate, I invited myself along. This moment was too precious to let slip by. "May the name of Marcus Burnett strike fear into the hearts and minds of assholes for years to come," Mike says, grinning as he looks at my dad.

Dad clears his throat to speak. "Thank y'all. Thank... Thank you all." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Mike and I, we're going on 25 years of working these streets." Mike nods in agreement, and the room falls silent, hanging on every word. "And I like to think we made a difference. You all are the best. And I thank you. It's been a real honor."

As dad speaks, memories flood back. I remember the late-night calls, the worry etched on mom's face every time dad walked out the door, and the stories he'd bring home—tales of bravery, loss, and brotherhood. His team isn't just a group of colleagues; they're family, bound by the shared experiences of life on the front lines.

As dad wraps up his speech, he looks over at me, his eyes softening with emotion. "And to my daughter, who's as much a part of this family as anyone else. Thank you for being here, Maia." A lump forms in my throat, and I nod, unable to speak. I raise my glass in a silent toast, feeling the warmth and love of the moment envelop me.

The evening continues with more toasts, laughter, and shared stories. Each tale is a testament to the strong bonds they've built over the years. I feel a deep sense of belonging and gratitude, knowing I'm part of this extraordinary family.

The celebration carries on late into the night, filled with the kind of joy and camaraderie that only such a tight-knit group can share. As I look around at the faces of those who mean the world to my dad, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude. This is my family, and I couldn't be prouder.

"Hey, granddaddy!" Rita walks toward us with a wide, gleeful smile, her arms outstretched for a hug.

"Oh no, he's going with pop-pop," Mike says, pointing at dad with a playful grin.

"Pop-pop?" Rita turns to dad, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Yeah." Dad replies, his own smile growing wider.

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