After the shower, Aria was tucked into my chest, wrapped in the blanket I'd pulled over her, her breathing steady and soft against me. I kissed the crown of her head once before sleep dragged me under.
But when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in my room.
The air was thick, smoky. The sky bruised with gray. I knew this place... not by name, but by feeling. War-torn. A country we'd been sent to years ago. The kind where every shadow could mean death. The kind where you stopped believing in peace after the first gunshot.
I looked down. Combat boots. Gear strapped tight across my chest. My rifle weighed heavy in my hands. My body knew the uniform before my mind caught up.
And then I heard it.
Waves.
I turned, disoriented, and there it was: the shoreline. A beach that didn't belong in this battlefield. The sea restless, dark, foaming white. And someone, someone was sitting at the edge of it, their back turned to me.
My throat seized.
No. No, it couldn't be.
But it was.
Ivan.
