Sergeant Riley

The thick smell of gunpowder still clung to the air when Sergeant Riley staggered against the half-collapsed sandbag wall, one hand pressed hard over the fresh bullet wound in her side. At six months pregnant with twins, her belly was prominent—impossible to ignore as she struggled to steady her breathing and stay conscious. Dust and debris had settled into her hair, and her uniform was torn and bloody, testament to the firefight she’d just survived. Overhead, mortar rounds still whistled through a sky filled with smoke. She needed help—quickly—before her trembling knees gave way and the muffled world around her went dark.