❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
The ginger’s knuckle met the wooden door giving it a soft knock before opening the already creaked door. A huge grin grew ear to ear as he saw the familiar woman, totally clueless to why Teddy had called him, – Maybe she needed a surgeon on a base or in the war zone?–Surely she wouldn’t be asking him such a thing right after the wedding. “So, I’ve yet to see on the news the army medical disintegrating- that must mean you’re doing your job right.” The soldier made his way into the office.
She’d been waiting for her duty to cure the fear, but nothing could make this any less than cruel. All the while, she’d stood there smiling — a mockery of what they called a best man. So when she raised her mournful eyes to her friend, it was a world of regrets that she held within them.
“Major Hunt,” she said, voice impassive. She couldn’t have voiced his name, not when what she was about to do might just void all their years of friendship. “Come in, please, and sit down.”
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