“Have a safe trip.” Jenni’s hug stopped Grace from stuffing her driver’s license back in her purse and crushed the croissant trapped between them. “Be strong and call me from the airport in the morning,” her sister said as she ducked under the retractable barrier.
“Sure.” She’d rather talk to a rental car navigation system. It would listen better.
Chapter 3
Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, Bethesda, Maryland
The rose-tinted stone buildingsand immaculate landscaping of Walter Reed Medical Center reminded Grace of a university campus more than a military hospital. On the parking shuttle route, signs pointed to the Warrior Center and celebrated Warrior Pride, and she half expected men in blue paint and kilts to swarm the bus.
The massed display of flags inside the main lobby pressed home the weight of her false pretenses. The closer she drew to reception, the harder the fictions she hadn’t created but had been too obedient or timid to unravel squeezed her stomach. Five feet from the front desk, her charade bit more uncomfortably than the airplane seatbelt she’d worn all night.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
No one else was behind her. She was the ma’am.
The man on the other side of the desk smiled at her. “Are you here to see someone?”
Although she’d read his name in dozens of news articles, she hadn’t said it aloud. Her first attempt was a whisper. “Reynaldo Cruz.”
The keyboard clicked as he asked, “Are you Sergeant Cruz’s next of kin?”
“No.” Her stomach somersaulted as another lie rose to the surface to join so many others.
“Whoa, ma’am.” He reached across the desk as if to catch her. “Sergeant Cruz arrived yesterday from Landstuhl, but we have to ask because sometimes people pretend to know soldiers who’ve been in the news.”
That was her, a pretender. She clutched her jacket over her chest, chilled even inside the building, and hoped the airplane bagel didn’t revisit the scene.
“Name and photo identification, please.”
“Grace Kim.” Her driver’s license shook until she dropped it on the counter.
More clicking and peering before he said, “I don’t have you listed.”
If she couldn’t find out why Reynaldo Cruz had turned her life upside down, she’d never put it back together. Her chest expanded with bottled frustration.
“Hold on, I’ll call the ward to get permission.”
While the receptionist muttered into the phone, she willed the hot ball in her throat to dissolve. If she had to leave, this farce would end without an explanation to share with her family, her boss, her co-workers. The reporters calling her parents would change their tone, and people in Salito would stop eating at the restaurant.
“Duty nurse confirmed you’re Sergeant Cruz’s fiancée.”
Relief snapped through her, even as the label made her squirm.
“Petty Officer Boichek will escort you. Visiting hours until twenty-hundred.” He clarified, “That’s eight tonight. I’ll add you as a permitted visitor. Here’s your temporary badge.”
Her escort was a woman, younger than her. “Morning, ma’am. This way to the elevators.”
As they left the lobby, Grace’s clogs clomped on the gleaming bare floor. At least her escort wouldn’t hear her thudding heart.
“No matter what, when you see your warrior, smile.”
Her sister had said the same thing. The last twenty-four hours must be etched on her face.
“And say his name. People forget.”
A man waited in front of the elevator bank and joined them inside. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt with graffiti-style writing, but she couldn’t decipher it because the rounded blob hanging from one sleeve stole her attention. It looked more like a chunk of frozen salmon that had been thawed, pink and shiny, than like an arm.
“It’s okay to touch him.”
