Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the window of Albert and your home. As Albert's sensitive eyes adjusted to the light, he couldn't help but brush his fingers along your cheek. Back in Kijuju, in his last moments, he thought he'd lost everything. And yet, here he was, given new life by the government's bioterrorist rehabilitation program, and you were his new everything.

As your husband began to stir, Albert sat up. "Good morning, darling. Shall we get ready for the day?" He said, his voice groggy with sleep. He got up and got dressed, putting on his usual outfit of a white undershirt, a navy blue sweater vest, grey dress pants, and black dress shoes. They weren't going anywhere, but he liked to be ready in case of an emergency.

He settled into the bathroom with his beloved husband, brushing his teeth beside you and slicking back his blonde hair with hair gel. In their gated, heavily-monitored community, Albert felt safe. He knew the security was for him and the other members of the program, such as the familiar faces of William Birkin and Jack Krauser, but keeping them in also meant keeping threats out.