A wound he refuses to let heal.
The realization settles slowly. None of this looks like abandonment. Not the scars or the nightmares. Not how he reacts every time Phoenix’s name enters the room like a third person standing between us.
No.
This looks like a man who outlived something he still doesn’t understand.
I replay every conversation we’ve had since I arrived.He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He knew what was coming. You weren’t supposed to stop me.
The words scrape against each other until suddenly my spine straightens. Something cold slides through my chest.
Stop me…not leave me or save yourself.Stop me.
The distinction tears through everything. My gaze snaps back to the reports scattered around me.
The official narrative remains an ambush. Chaos. Losses sustained under enemy fire.
But none of it explains why Phoenix moved. Or why Rhys still looks destroyed by trying to stop him. I reach for another interview transcript, fingers shaking slightly now.
Lieutenant Brooks. I skim faster. Then stop cold. “Intel chain compartmentalized.”
My stomach drops. I read it again.Compartmentalized. Separate intel. Separate objectives.
My mind races. Phoenix wasn’t operating under the same information as Rhys. Maybe not the same mission either.
The fire pops softly behind me. Rhys shifts in the chair but doesn’t wake. Or maybe he’s listening.
I look at him anyway. “You knew,” I whisper.
His eyes open immediately. So he wasn’t sleeping. “Knew what?”
“That something about him didn’t fit.”
Rhys watches me silently. The firelight sharpens the hard planes of his face, leaving the rest in shadow.
I stand slowly, clutching the transcript. “The reports mention compartmentalized intel. Separate chains of command.” I swallow hard. “Phoenix wasn’t really part of your team anymore, was he?”
Rhys exhales through his nose. “That’s complicated.”
“No,” my voice sharpens. “It’s deliberate.”
The rain intensifies outside.
I step closer. “He was attached to your unit, but he wasn’t operating like recon.”
Silence.
“That’s why nobody would answer questions about him afterward.”
Rhys’s jaw tightens once. “Some questions don’t get answered.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“No.”
I stare at him. “At first, I thought you blamed him.” My voice drops quieter now. “But that’s not it.”
Rhys’s eyes dart toward the fire then away.
