Arthur looked toward the closed door, a profound, speechless gratitude swelling inside his chest.
Lily reached down, picked up her crumpled paper card from the floor, and proudly smoothed it out against her knee before shoving it into Arthur's hands.
"Look, Daddy! I drew it for you!" she said excitedly.
Arthur opened the folded construction paper. Inside was a drawing of four figures standing under a bright yellow sun, holding hands in front of a house with a small green garden. On top, written in wobbly, oversized purple crayon letters, were the words:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY. WE ARE WAITING FOR YOU.
Arthur pressed the paper against his chest, right over his beating heart. The gray uniform no longer felt cold. The room no longer felt like a prison. For thirty precious minutes, Arthur Pendelton was not Inmate 44092. He was a husband, a father, and a man who was deeply, unconditionally loved.
And as he looked at his wife and children, he knew, with absolute certainty, that he would survive the next eighteen months. He would survive them all, because he had a home waiting for him on the other side.