Chapter 14: Before the Call
504 Words
The storm outside had grown heavier by evening. Snow whispered against the window, and the fire had burned low, its glow flickering across the small cabin. Amelia sat on the floor, her knees drawn close, carefully changing the bandage on Liam’s shoulder.
He didn’t flinch, though the wound still burned with every touch. “You’re getting good at this,” he said, his voice quiet but teasing.
She gave him a look. “That’s not something I ever wanted to get good at.”
He chuckled softly. “Fair enough.”
Her hands moved gently, wrapping the fresh cloth with care. “How many scars do you have, Liam?”
He hesitated. “I stopped counting after twenty.”
“Twenty?” she echoed, eyes wide.
He smiled faintly. “You learn to live with them. Each one reminds you that you survived when someone else didn’t.”
Amelia looked at him then — really looked — the calm strength in his eyes shadowed by years of silent pain. “You carry too much,” she whispered.
“I carry what I must.”
“Maybe,” she said softly, “but you don’t have to carry it alone.”
He met her gaze. For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then, as if drawn by something he couldn’t resist, Liam reached out — his fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the warmth of her skin.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he murmured.
“Why not?”
“Because I might start believing them.”
Her heart thudded, but she didn’t look away. “Maybe you should.”
Outside, thunder rolled faintly through the mountains. Inside, silence settled once more — not awkward, but fragile, like the stillness before dawn.
Amelia leaned closer, resting her forehead lightly against his. “You’ve saved my life more than once,” she whispered. “Let me return the favor — even if it’s just by staying here tonight.”
Liam closed his eyes, a small smile ghosting across his lips. “You already have.”
They sat like that for a while — two souls carved by war, finding a rare peace in each other’s company.
But peace never lasted long in Liam’s world.
From the corner of the room, a faint static crackled through the old communication device he’d kept hidden under his jacket. The signal light blinked — red, urgent.
Amelia pulled back slightly. “Is that—?”
Liam’s expression hardened in an instant. He stood, every trace of softness replaced by the soldier’s steel composure. “It’s a priority call.”
He pressed the receiver. A voice came through, sharp and distorted by static:
“Commander Tran, this is HQ. We have a situation. Code name: Specter. You’re needed back immediately.”
Liam’s jaw tightened. “Understood.”
He turned to Amelia — and for the first time since Geneva, she saw the war return to his eyes.
“Pack your things,” he said quietly. “The quiet’s over.”
- Writer
