He couldn’t focus on the mission at hand if he was worried about something going on back home in Lover’s Leap, and often the mission at hand was dangerous, high-stakes, and potentially deadly. His life had literally depended on compartmentalizing his feelings and keeping one world separate from the other. Even on the day his mother went into the hospital for a biopsy that would reveal if the lump in her left breast was cancerous, once he strapped into the pilot’s seat, his mother’s health was the furthest thing from his mind. When he was on duty, he was on duty, serving his country; when he was at home, he was home, enjoying his family, and he did his best not to let one interfere with the other. So it wasn’t that difficult for him to put the letter he’d received the morning of the race from his mind. It was a matter for another day—for December twenty-eighth, the first day his commanding officer had said he would be back in the office—and not relevant to celebrating the holiday with his family.
