She couldn’t finish that sentence.
"Then I heard Santiago shouting," she continued. "He had a staff sergeant with chest trauma who was collapsing fast, and he couldn't stabilize him alone. And Marcus… Marcus was stable enough for the moment. His pressure holding and his airway clear. I had maybe two minutes before he'd deteriorate."
Jade's hands were shaking now despite Maddox holding one of them. She pulled away, wrapping both arms around herself protectively.
"The staff sergeant had a better chance," she said flatly. "That's what I told myself. He was older, more experienced, and his injuries were survivable if I could get there fast enough. Marcus was—" The words stuck in her throat. "The protocol is clear. You save who you can save and focus on the greatest good. That’s triage 101."
"You had to choose," Maddox said quietly.
"I had to choose." Jade's voice cracked. "So I looked at Marcus, this kid who'd been in-country for six weeks, and I told him I'd be right back. That he needed to stay with me, keep pressure on the wound, and that help was coming."
She could still see his face, the complete trust in his eyes. She shook her head to dislodge the mental image, but it persisted.
"He believed me," Jade whispered. "He said 'yes, ma'am' and pressed his own hands to his stomach and he believed I was coming back."
The apartment was so quiet, like it was suspended in time. Just her breathing, uneven now, and Maddox's unwavering presence beside her.
"I got the staff sergeant stable," Jade continued. "It took three minutes, maybe four, then I went back to Marcus." Her hands fisted in her lap. "He'd bled out. He was still conscious when I got there, but?—"
She stopped, breathed deeply to calm herself, and kept going.
"He was dying, and he knew it. I could see it in his face. He wasn't scared anymore. Just...tired. He looked at me and said—" Jade's voice broke completely. "He said 'you came back.'"
Tears were running down her face now, but she didn't wipe them away.
"I held his hand," she said. "Did everything I could, but there was too much blood, too much damage. The medevac was still five minutes out, but he didn't have five minutes. He asked me to tell his mom he wasn't scared. He asked?—"
She couldn't continue for a moment. Maddox's hand was back on hers, warm and grounding her to the present moment.
"He asked if he did good," Jade managed finally. "If he was a good soldier. And I told him yes. I told him he was brave and strong and that I was so proud of him. I held his hand and I lied and I told him everything was going to be okay, and then?—"
She didn't need to finish. She knew Maddox knew the tragedies of war.
"He died holding my hand," Jade said, voice barely above a whisper. "Looking at me, trusting me, and I just…let it happen."
"You saved the staff sergeant," Maddox said quietly.
"I know."
"You followed protocol."
"I know." Jade's voice was sharp now, years of frustration bleeding through. "You think I don't know that? I made the right call. By every metric, every standard of combat medicine, I made the correct choice. The staff sergeant survived. He went home to his wife and three kids. I did my job perfectly."
"But it doesn't feel that way," Maddox said.
"No." Jade wiped at her face with shaking hands. "It doesn't. Because I see him every time I close my eyes. I see his face when I told him I'd be right back. I hear him saying 'you came back' like I'd done something noble instead of abandoning him to bleed out alone."
“You didn’t abandon him.”
“I did. I chose saving someone else over him.” The words came out hard and angry and venomous. “That’s what triage is. It’s choosing. And I chose to let a nineteen-year-old kid die scared and alone in the sand while I saved someone else with better odds.”
“You came back to him,” Maddox said. “You held his hand in his final moments. You stayed with him.”
“It wasn’t enough,” she said, her voice cracking on her grief.
“Maybe not.” Maddox’s voice stayed calm. “But it was something. He didn’t die alone.”
Jade looked at her then, really looked. Maddox's face was serious, her dark eyes holding hers without flinching. There was no pity there, no horror, just understanding.
