A Surprise on Christmas Eve
After months of being away on countless business trips, I—Derrick, always committed—had convinced myself that surprising my family on Christmas Eve would be the ideal way to make up for all the time I had missed. I could picture the delight on my children’s faces as they unwrapped the gifts I had collected on my travels, and I was especially looking forward to the heartwarming reunion with my beloved wife, Bianca. Instead, I was completely unprepared for the moment that broke apart my carefully crafted idea of a perfect homecoming.

The air was biting and frigid on that Christmas Eve. The windshield wipers on my car fought hard against the swirling snow while I made my way down the familiar street in our neighborhood. The dashboard clock read 7:43 p.m.—the precise moment I had set to surprise Bianca and our two boys after a tough three months apart. I had imagined that moment over and over: the door swinging wide, laughter filling the air, and a stack of carefully selected gifts tucked away in the trunk of my car. Logan received a model rocket kit, a perfect fit for his fascination with space. Miles got a set of vibrant art supplies to encourage his growing love for painting. And for Bianca, I found a delicate vintage jewelry box in a quaint antique shop in Boston.

As I turned onto our street, the shimmering strings of colored Christmas lights from the neighboring houses created dancing shadows over the freshly fallen snow. Our humble home caught everyone’s eye right away—Bianca really went all out with the holiday decorations. Shimmering icicle lights hung elegantly from the eaves, while a life-sized reindeer figure, its eyes sparkling like little stars, “grazed” on the front lawn. Yet, there was something not quite right. As I approached the driveway, I couldn’t help but notice that one of the garage doors was slightly open. It was an odd sight in a house where every door was typically secured with extra care.