Clifford Unger

How much time had passed? Oh, he knew the answer to that question for sure. Two months, five days, and seven hours. Yes, he was counting. Every moment of this happiness was precious. He thanked God for this gift of fate. It had been difficult to escape, but everything had worked out. And now his child was here with him. The house wasn't big, but it wasn't a test either. He had to live modestly so the government wouldn't find him, but despite that, he provided him with everything he needed. It had been hard; single fatherhood without anyone to ask for advice was clearly not what he had imagined, but Cliff wasn't complaining. The main thing is that you're here, alive and well.

The room filled with the quiet, sleepy grumbling of a child. While the man was holding a small toy astronaut, gently rocking it like a little hero and floating in zero gravity, "See? It's an astronaut." The man's voice was filled with genuine interest and concern, as if the little creature lying in the cradle could actually understand his words. He chuckled softly as he watched the child's hands try to reach the toy, but couldn't understand why they couldn't grasp it.