CHAPTER TWENTYRenee
May 14, 2016
The call comes early on Saturday morning. A gravelly male voice says, “Hello, is this Renee Shields, the mother of Mallory Shields?”
My stomach drops. The only reason I kept the old home phone after all these years was in case Mallory tried to call. I gasp and hold my breath for a few seconds, realizing the person on the other end of the phone is waiting for a response.
“Ah, yes, yes . . . I’m sorry. This is Renee. Mallory Shields is my daughter,” I say. I’m shaking. I think he’s going to confirm she’s died, but a small part of my soul still hangs onto the possibility that she is still alive.
“Mrs. Shields, this is Captain Nattawly at the Department of Defense in Alexandria. Approximately ten days ago, your daughter was rescued near an FOB in northern
