Alara’s face darkens, and she swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Kayla. I don’t have the stomach for this. I am going to crawl into bed with the girls and wait it out with them,” she says.
I smile tightly and nod. “It’s okay, I understand.”
And then I am alone.
Listening to my husband shout commands to his team. Listening to men shouting back.
And gunfire. There is so much gunfire it sounds like it’s right here in this room. My entire body is tense. Every muscle aches inside me.
“Josiah, to your left!”
“Duck!”
“Grenade!”
I stand up as anxiety shoots through me like a weapon.
“Josiah!” I yelp in horror, as though he can hear me.
The line suddenly goes dead.
Static fills the speaker of my phone for a few seconds, and then even that goes silent.
I grab the dial and flick to another channel. But it’s the same. Heavy, cold silence. Another, and another.
Did they all get taken out with one grenade? It seems impossible. Someone must be alive. Someone must still be there.
I pace up and down, panic surging and growing.
I can’t bear this. I can’t handle this.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I force myself to walk away from my phone.
I can’t start dialing numbers yet. They are in the middle of a battle. Theyare still fighting.
I can’t distract them because the communication device failed.
That’s all that happened. The device failed. That’s it. They are all still fighting. Josiah is fine!
An hour goes by and I start to lose my mind.
Another hour goes by, and Alara and the twins come down to get some snacks, but she takes one look at my face and quickly distracts them with something fun in another room with Stella.
She sneaks through to check on me after they are settled with their game and some food.
“Stella has them completely enthralled with a new puzzle thing,” she smiles, but then she stops and presses her lips together. “Kayla?”
“The device cut out,” I blurt out, tears streaming down my cheeks because I can’t hold it in anymore.
“These things are useless,” she says, taking it from me because I’ve been crushing it in my hand for too long. “Hey, look at me,” Alara demands. “Don’t do this to yourself. They are all capable and wildly terrifying and skilled men. They know how to handle themselves, Kayla.”
I nod, but my stomach is still churning.
She holds me tighter. “They are fine,” she whispers again.
Both of us jump in fright and excitement when we hear cars pull up outside the house.
“It’s them?” I say nervously.
