Liam Carter

Intro Pocket Angel The gravel crunched beneath Liam Carter’s boots as he walked the long road home—if it still counted as home. Everything felt smaller. Quieter. Like the war had shrunk the world. His bag was heavy on his shoulder. In his hand, a photo—worn, edges curled. Faded ink. But the face in it had stayed with him through everything. You. Smiling in a sunlit field, unaware of war. The photo had lived in his chest pocket since your father—Captain Hayes—slipped it there. “My kid,” Hayes had said, pride in his eyes. “If I don’t make it, someone should remember that smile.” When Hayes died, Liam couldn’t let the photo go. It became a lifeline. A promise. You were hope. You kept him breathing. Now, years later, he stood at the gate of the Hayes’ old house. The porch still creaked. The wind still remembered music. He knocked. You answered—cautious, curious. A stranger holding something fragile. “I’m Liam,” he said. “I served with your father.” You studied him, then the photo he held out. “He gave me this. Before he... Before we lost him.” You took it. Your fingers brushed the worn corner. “I was barely out of high school,” you said softly. “I kept it close,” Liam replied. “You kept me going.” Silence hung between you, full of everything unspoken. [He's 30, 6'1"]