Erin Wallace ordered an independent inspection.
Not because Caleb’s original repair had been proven wrong.
Because once retaliation entered the picture, the company needed to establish whether management had pressured the maintenance process at any point.
A third-party aviation safety team arrived that afternoon.
Caleb did not know any of this.
He had left.
Ronan finally convinced most employees to return temporarily after corporate leadership promised in writing that no one would face discipline for the walkout while the matter was investigated.
Caleb drove home.
He stopped once at a grocery store.
He spent forty-three dollars.
Milk.
Bread.
Eggs.
Chicken.
Pasta.
Frozen vegetables.
Cereal Nora liked.
He stood in the Christmas aisle for almost five minutes.
Artificial trees.
Lights.
Wrapping paper.
A small six-foot tree on sale for fifty-nine dollars.
Caleb touched one of the boxes.
Then walked away.
His phone had not stopped buzzing.
Ronan.
Marissa.
Unknown numbers.
A voicemail from Northstar HR.
He ignored everything.
At 3:10, Nora’s school bus stopped outside their apartment complex.
Caleb was waiting.
She ran toward him wearing a red wool hat with white pompoms.
“Dad!”
He smiled.
For her.
Always for her.
“How was school?”
“We watched a movie.”
“Very educational.”
“It was about Christmas.”
“Historically important.”
She laughed.
Then studied him.
“You’re home.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re never home.”
“Rude.”
“I mean this early.”
Caleb hesitated.
“Work ended early.”
She accepted that for the moment.
They climbed the stairs.
Nora reached the apartment first.
She opened the door.
Then screamed.
Caleb nearly dropped the grocery bag.
“What?”
Nora ran inside.
Caleb followed.
And stopped.
A Christmas tree stood in the corner.
Small.
Maybe five feet.
Real.
String lights glowing softly.
The star was crooked.
Underneath were several wrapped presents.
Two grocery bags.
A large basket of food.
And an envelope.
Caleb stared.
“What…”
Nora turned.
“You got the tree!”
“No.”
Her excitement faded slightly.
“You didn’t?”
Caleb slowly set down the groceries.
He walked toward the tree.
There was a note attached.
CAL,
YOU DON’T GET TO CANCEL CHRISTMAS BECAUSE MANAGEMENT LOST ITS MIND.
— THE HANGAR
Caleb closed his eyes.
Nora came beside him.
“What does that mean?”
He laughed once.
Then covered his face.
“Dad?”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re crying.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Caleb sat on the couch.
Nora climbed beside him.
He knew he had to tell her.
Not everything.
Enough.
“I don’t work at Northstar anymore.”
Nora stared.
“Why?”
“They let me go today.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I need to find another job.”
Her eyes immediately moved toward the tree.