My body reacts before my mind does. My heart stops mid-beat, then goes haywire. All the air leaves my lungs, then they fill again, because for the first time in weeks, I can breathe. Fear, excitement, surprise, joy, relief, doubt, and a slew of other emotions come at me from all angles, and I can’t figure out which way is up. Did I just hear what I think I heard?
“I… uh…what?”I ask, staring at the captain through blurred, teary eyes.
“Major Criss is alive, ma’am, and being transferred to Walter Reed Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland.”
“How… why… um…” I feel light-headed, so I blow a long, controlled breath out in an attempt to stay conscious. “It’s been over two weeks. I don’t understand.”
“His doctors will be able to tell you more. Here’s what we know. When your husband’s unit found an opportunity to flee their captors, uniforms were inadvertently exchanged. After the accident, in the haste to get Major Criss medical attention, things must have been overlooked. In addition, your husband also had injuries that made his identity hard to confirm. He took a hit to the head that resulted in him being kept in a medically induced coma for a time. We were unaware of the mix-up until a family member of the soldier we thought him to be informed us of the mistaken identity.”
My mind is trying to process all the information.Injuries. Coma. He’s alive.
“Is he… okay?”
Billings nods. “He’s awake now and has been cleared to make the overseas flight. He’ll be stateside in the morning.”
“What does this mean? For me. For us. Can I go to him?” Suddenly, I’m bombarded with gruesome accounts Trevor would tell me about his patients. The one thing he hated the most was working on soldiers who’d been hit by IEDs. The injuries they sustained were among the worst he’d seen. Shrapnel. Head injuries. Missing limbs. I cry out a fear-based scream. “Oh, my god.” I squeeze my eyes tightly together, fearing the answer to the question I’m about to ask. “Did he lose any arms or legs?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t believe he did. But you’ll have to talk to his medical team about the specifics of his injuries.” Relief surges through me as he pulls a piece of paper from his binder. “There are organizations that can help you with flights and accommodations if needed. You can leave as soon as arrangements have been made.”
I refuse the paper, not wanting any red tape to stand between Trevor and me. “I’m ready right now.” A hand flies to my mouth. “My god. Do his parents know?”
“We’ll be going over there next,” Sargent Navarra informs me.
I stand, feeling as if the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. “I’m going with you.”
I’m walking on air as we leave the office. Trevor is alive. My love is not dead and buried beneath the headstone in the cemetery.
The wind is pulled from my sails as I’m hit with a sick feeling. Because someone else is buried there. And while I’m elated that I’m getting my life back—the life I’ve always dreamed of with myhusband and child—somebody somewhere is now grieving the man they were told was the sole survivor.
“The man who was buried?”
“His remains will be exhumed and sent to his next of kin.”
I stop in my tracks. “Wait here.”
I race around the corner and up the stairs to my apartment. I fly through the living room into the master bedroom, rip open the bottom left dresser drawer and get the flag Dawn insisted I keep for myself after the funeral.
Back down in the shop, I shove it into the captain’s chest. “You can have this back.”
He simply nods and takes it.
When the weight of the flag is lifted out of my arms, a tsunami of relief floods through me as if giving the symbol of Trevor’s death back to them also takes away the weight of the grief I’ve been carrying for weeks.
Escorting them back out front, I have the urge to shout to my employees and the world that Trevor is alive. But Dawn and Chuck deserve to know before anyone else. I shake my head and try not to look too happy when I say to everyone in earshot. “It’s okay. I just have to run an errand.” I turn to Gray. “You’re in charge until Jason gets back.”
“Is everything okay, Ms. Criss?” Bug asks.
I have to work hard to contain the smile that’s tugging at the edge of my lips. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine, Bug.”
“Everything’s going to bewonderful,”I mumble to myself, as the officers and I walk out the front doors.
Chapter Nine
Trevor
Islept most of the flight and during the medical transport from the airport. Turns out recovering from a head injury—not to mention all the other stuff—is no walk in the park. I’m tired a lot. And cranky. And frustrated as hell over… everything.
The strangest thing I’ve begun to realize over these past days is that I’m apparently pretty damn smart. At first I wasn’t even aware that I knew more than the average Joe. But the more interactions I have with people, especially those who aren’t doctors, the more I feel like there’s this encyclopedia in my brain where I can go to retrieve just about any information. Medical knowledge aside, which still astounds me, I found I can do complex mathematical calculations, recite all fifty states in alphabetical order, name almost every European countryandtheir capitals, and for some reason, I seem to know a lot about cars—something I realized after watching some cable show calledWheeler Dealers.
