Chapter 2
Serena's POV
Three years ago, my family's living room
I was curled up on the couch with an anatomy textbook on my knees, but I'd been staring at the same page for two hours. My boyfriend Shawn hadn't contacted me in six weeks.
Six weeks.
This was the longest he'd gone without contact since redeploying. Usually he managed to text me every week, even if it was just a simple "safe." But this time was different.
My phone lay on the coffee table, screen always lit, waiting for that familiar number. I'd even started imagining I heard message notifications, but every time I picked up the phone, it was empty.
He'll be okay. He promised me.
But deep down, an ominous feeling grew stronger.
The doorbell rang.
I jumped up, heart pounding. Maybe he's back? Maybe he's surprising me?
But when I opened the door, a middle-aged man in military uniform stood outside. His face was grave, hat tucked under his arm, with another young officer beside him.
My world froze instantly.
"Miss Serena Taylor?"
"Yes." My voice became small.
"I'm Colonel Davidson. I'm Shawn Mitchell's..."
"Foster father." I finished his sentence, voice beginning to tremble, "Shawn mentioned you."
Colonel Davidson nodded, pain flickering in his eyes. "May I come in? We need to talk."
My legs suddenly went weak. I knew what this kind of visit meant.
"No." I stepped back, shaking my head, "No, please don't..."
"Serena," Colonel Davidson said softly, "I regret to inform you..."
"NO!" I covered my ears, "Don't say it! Please don't say it!"
But his voice still penetrated my defenses, each word hitting my heart like bullets:
"I'm sorry, Serena. Shawn was killed in action during a mission."
The world stopped turning.
Air was sucked from my lungs, and I felt myself falling, endlessly falling.
"No... no, this can't be true..." I collapsed to the floor.
Colonel Davidson crouched down, trying to support me. "He was killed by an IED explosion during a field operation. He died quickly, without pain."
"Impossible." I shook my head frantically, tears pouring out, "He promised he'd come back. He promised to marry me. We had so many plans..."
"I know this is hard to accept, but..."
"Where is he?" I grabbed Colonel Davidson's arm, nails digging into his uniform, "I want to see him. I want to see him one last time. I need to confirm this isn't real."
Colonel Davidson closed his eyes in pain.
"I'm sorry, his body... couldn't be recovered. The explosion was too severe."
Those words completely shattered my last hope. I let out a heart-wrenching scream and collapsed completely.
He's really gone...
Mom and Dad rushed over, immediately understanding what had happened when they saw my state and the officers at the door.
"Honey, you must keep living..." Mom repeated through tears in my ear, but I couldn't hear anything.
Shawn was dead. The man who promised to marry me, who said he'd protect me forever, who showed me what love was for the first time... would never come back.
The next few months were complete darkness. I fell apart completely—couldn't attend classes, couldn't eat, couldn't even get out of bed. I existed like a walking corpse, or rather, barely survived.
Doctors diagnosed me with severe depression. I was hospitalized for eight weeks, slowly learning to breathe again, stand again, pretend to live again under the care of nurses.
At my parents' pleading, I finally began trying to rebuild my life. But the void Shawn left could never be filled.
Now, hotel lounge
"Serena?" Brianna's voice pulled me back to reality, "You're crying again."
I realized I was weeping, tears soaking my hands. Reliving that pain made it almost impossible to breathe, like experiencing Shawn's death all over again.
David watched me quietly, finally sighing deeply. "If you're certain you saw him, then let's find evidence."
"What?" Brianna looked at David in surprise, "You can't encourage her delusions! Serena needs a psychiatrist, not more hallucinations!"
"This isn't a hallucination." David stood up, his expression suddenly serious, "I'm a Marine veteran. We have a code: never leave a man behind. If my brother-in-arms is alive, I'll find him."
The air in the room solidified.
Brianna's eyes widened, mouth slightly open. "You never said you were military before."
"Some things we don't like to discuss." David looked at me, "War changes a person. Some memories are too painful, so we choose to bury them."
I looked at David, hope stirring in my heart.
"Let's go," David said, "We're checking the hotel's security footage."
The hotel lobby was brightly lit, evening guests beginning to check in. David approached the front desk, showing the staff some kind of ID. I couldn't see what it was, but the staff immediately became respectful, leading us to the back office security room without hesitation.
"Here." David pointed at the monitor screen, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard, "5:40 PM, vehicles coming from the church direction."
On screen, I saw that yellow taxi. The door opened, a figure got out and walked toward the church. Due to the angle, I couldn't see his face clearly, but that silhouette...
It's him.
"That's him." I said trembling, "That's the person."
David adjusted the timeline, showing the man leaving the church. In the parking lot, he walked slowly, each step seeming careful and hesitant, as if uncertain about something. Then a skateboarding teenager rushed by, the man obviously trying to avoid him, but his movements looked labored.
The teen bumped into him, he lost balance and nearly fell. Under the camera, I clearly saw him steady himself in an odd way, as if something was wrong with his right leg.
What happened to Shawn? Is he injured?
David continued operating, pulling up the taxi's license plate, then contacted the driver through some channel I didn't know about.
"Hello, this is a federal investigator," David lied calmly, "Regarding a passenger you picked up this afternoon, we need some information. This is routine inquiry related to security."
"Which passenger?" The driver's voice came through the phone, sounding nervous.
"The male passenger who got in around 5:40 PM from St. Helena Church."
"Oh, that guy." The driver's tone relaxed somewhat, "Very memorable. The passenger looked really weak, almost fell getting in the car. I even asked if he needed help. He looked... how should I put it, like someone just discharged from a hospital."
My hands clenched into fists. A patient? Is Shawn sick?
"Did he say anything?" David continued asking.
"I asked where he wanted to go, he said Palo Alto. Voice was very hoarse, like he hadn't spoken in a long time. Then he didn't say anything the whole ride. I saw in the rearview mirror that he was crying the entire time."
Palo Alto. My heart sank. There were many medical facilities there, including...
"The VA rehabilitation center." I said quietly.
David hung up the phone and turned to me. "Now I need to tell you something."
He led me to a quiet corner of the lobby, Brianna following closely.
"I am indeed a Marine veteran." David's voice was low, "I served two tours. I know things that don't appear in official records."
"You mean..."
"I mean sometimes the military declares soldiers KIA for certain reasons, even when they're still alive."
This possibility struck me like lightning.
"You're saying Shawn might..."
"We need to contact Colonel Davidson." David pulled out his phone, "If anyone knows the truth, it's him. But first, I want to know more about Shawn. Can you tell me what he was like before redeployment?"
I closed my eyes, letting memory take me back to those sweet times.