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“Oh my god,” Nick breathed. “Do you realize what this means?”

“What?” Gibby asked, her voice crystal clear.

“We have a ship name!” Nick cried. “Holy shit, we’re PyroGuard! Wait, no. That sounds like medicine for a foot rash. GuardStorm! StormGuard? GuardPyro!”

“Nicky, no,” they all groaned.

“Nicky,yes!”

“Nicky, yes,” another voice said, and Nick startled. He removed the helmet and smiled at Dad, who was standing in the entrywayto the kitchen. His eyes were wet, but he was smiling. Nick set the helmet on the table before flinging himself at his father. Dad caught him. He always did.

“Guardian,” Dad whispered into his hair. “My guardian.”

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