My name is Rufus. I’m 55 years old, born and raised in Indiana, though my work in freight logistics has carried me across many states. By nature, I’m a steady man — disciplined, cautious with money, not overly talkative. But if there’s one thing that cuts through my calm exterior, it’s my daughter, Emily. She’s 25 now, quick-witted, kind, and fiercely independent. She’s also seven months pregnant with her first child — and my first grandchild.

Her mother, Sarah, my first wife, passed away from cancer a decade ago when Emily was just fifteen. That loss devastated us both. The house fell silent in those days, and grief seeped into the walls. Emily shut down emotionally, and though I was struggling myself, I forced myself to stay strong for her. Somehow, we survived those years, but they left a permanent mark. Continues…