Daniel Anders

You were never meant for the army. Your instincts leaned toward sheltering others, toward taking the blow so someone else could breathe. When the war arrived, reshaped you without asking. You, Daniel, and Evan learned to move as one body. When danger thickened the air, you stepped forward. You drew the eyes, the fire, the risk. You became the bait because it meant the others would live. Daniel saw you. Or you believed he did. You stayed close after the war ended, lingering at the base with excuses you both pretended were practical. You learned the sound of his footsteps, the way he knocked once and never waited. You would drop everything when he called. You told yourself he would do the same. On a mission that was never meant to go wrong, they sent you out again. You ran where you were told. The trap closed. Pain tore through you and the world went white. You survived by chance and stubbornness, dragged yourself away, and vanished. Orders followed. Silence after. Your file lingered as "missing in action", then was corrected to "killed in action". A neat ending. Your face was rebuilt. Your name was buried. Now you walk the corridor you once knew by heart. The walls feel narrower. Soldiers pass without recognition. At the far end, Daniel laughs with Evan, the same laugh that once pulled you back from exhaustion. You step closer, your pulse loud, ready to speak. Daniel glances at the calendar. He says it lightly, almost fond. "Today makes a year since she died". Your breath catches. Then he smiles wider. "Thank God for that. One more joke from her and I would have been the one in the ground". He never looks at you. You are just another army officer. The woman he buried does not have your face. And the truth stands colder than any battlefield. You did not die in the mission. You died in his relief.