When I nearly ran through the doorway of my room, my phone was still lighting up on the nightstand, vibrating itself closer to the edge with every pulse, a number flashing across the screen that I didn’t recognize.
Hands shaking, I grabbed it, my thumb hovering uselessly for half a beat before I pressed answer.
“Hello?” My voice came out thin, brittle.
Behind me, the bathroom door opened fully.
Connor stepped out, towel in his hands, hair damp, already dressed, his eyes going straight to me and then to the phone pressed tight against my ear. He crossed the room without a word and stopped just short of touching me, close enough that the warmth at my back soothed me.
“This is Captain Laura Hayes, United States Army,” the voice said. “Am I speaking with Theadora Sloane?”
“Yes,” I said, already gripping the phone too tightly. “That’s me.”
“Theadora, I’m calling in my capacity as Casualty Assistance Officer for your father, Major Gregory Sloane.”
My chest constricted around his name.
“I need to inform you that your father’s status has been updated.” She continued. “His unit has been located, and I can confirm that he is alive.”
Alive.
My knees buckled before my mind could catch up.
Connor was there instantly, his arms locking around my waist as my body gave out, the phone still pressed to my ear as he eased me backward until my weight hit him instead of the floor.
My breath came apart on a sharp inhale, and then nowhere to go after that, my lungs forgetting what came next. Connor’s hold firmed instinctively as my weight sagged into him, his forearm braced across my middle, his other hand coming up to keep the phone from slipping as my fingers lost their grip.
“He’s… alive?” I asked again, because hearing it once hadn’t been enough to convince the part of me that had already imagined every other outcome.
“Yes, ma’am,” Captain Hayes said, patient and precise. “Major Sloane is alive and accounted for.”
My forehead tipped forward until it pressed into Connor’s shoulder, the fabric of his shirt warm against my face. I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, the movement small and uncoordinated.
“Is he hurt?” I forced out the question, rough around the edges.
“There was an incident,” she replied. “I can’t provide operational details at this time, but I can confirm he is receiving appropriate medical evaluation.”
Connor shifted behind me, easing us down until I was seated, my back against his chest, his knees bracketing me on either side like he’d decided this was where I was safest. One of his hands stayed at my waist.
“Can I speak to him?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Communication is restricted while his unit completes debrief and assessment. He has been informed that you’ve been notified.”
That mattered more than it should have. That he knew I knew. That somewhere, somehow, my name had reached him.
“When?” I asked. “When will he be able to call?”
“I don’t have a confirmed timeline,” she said. “As soon as communication is authorized, he’ll be permitted to reach out directly.”
I closed my eyes, wetness seeping out. “But he’s alive,” I whispered.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “He is alive.”
The words finally settled, spreading through me in a way that made my chest ache and loosen all at once. My hand slid over Connor’s thigh, my fingers curling there, mooring myself to something solid while my body caught up to the information my mind had just been handed.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice breaking. “Thank you for calling me.”
“You’re welcome,” Captain Hayes replied. “I’ll remain your point of contact moving forward. You have my number, so if you need assistance or support, you can reach out at any time.”
