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looks. Your actions were in direct contradiction to your commander’s intent. He even specifically forbade you from taking that action. After that, you marched past your entire unit as an escort to Mr. El-Hashem so he could escape to safety.”

“He had his men threatening those people still! And I was his hostage as much as any of them! Did everyone miss that part where he shot me in the head?”

“I understand your anger, Adam, but try to understand. There was ambiguity in the nature of your actions. The inspector general wasn’t there. Your brigade commander wasn’t there. The public is aware only of what it hears and what it hears is . . . damning. Now, I’m not saying that they have a strong case. All I’m saying is that there are questions that need to be answered in an official capacity. There are public figures calling for your arrest, and they must be satisfied. You must go to court so your guilt or innocence can be determined. At the very least, you have to admit you disobeyed a lawful, direct order.”

“That’s bullshit!” Adam spat. “How . . . how can it possibly be this way? This is insane! Captain Donowitz let me leave.”

Mr. Hill shifted uneasily in his chair. “To be fair, there was nothing he could do to regain control of your insubordination in that moment. He couldn’t physically force you to come with him as he could have in any other situation because everyone was at Mr. El-Hashem’s mercy.”

“Exactly, we were all at his mercy. We couldn’t do anything besides what he said. How can I be a traitor for giving El-Hashem what he wanted when everyone else was doing the same thing?” Adam already felt like he was on the witness stand.

“Yes, I thought of that, Adam, and I’ll be using that as part of my argument. I’m your lawyer, and regardless of the truth of the scenario, it is my duty to present a defense. We just have to face facts here. It’s possible that—”

Mr. Hill cut himself off because Benito Alvarez appeared in the doorway with the intent of striding brazenly into the room. He stopped short and looked surprised that someone was already in the room with Adam. “Ooh, sorry. Is this a bad time?” He looked at Mr. Hill. “Aren’t you—ohh.” Benito sort of chuckled. “Is this about the—kllcchh!” Benito mimicked hanging himself with a noose. Adam wanted to leap from the bed and throttle him for real, but before Adam could even say anything, Benito laughed aloud and casually continued walking down the hall like that whole scenario had been a scene from TV that could be brushed off for the sake of the allotted time.

Adam couldn’t believe the bastard. Why did he have to be like that? What happened to him? And what was he doing back in the hospital? Just pacing around, waiting for good opportunities to take another cheap shot?

Mr. Hill shifted around in his chair slowly, looking uncomfortable. “Uhh, yes. Well, we’ll be able to speak more privately at a later date, when you’re well enough to walk. We can begin to formulate a plan for your hearing and hopefully avoid any unpleasantness with the possibility of capital punishment.”

Unpleasantness. Adam repeated the word in his head. The euphemism was actually insulting. The delicate manner in which the lawyer spoke was beginning to get on Adam’s nerves.

“They’ll release you from custody for a short time and allow you to come down to my office, perhaps, if they feel comfortable,” Mr. Hill finished.

Custody? The revelation hit Adam like a freight train. He was in the custody of the law. It explained so much, like why his wing wasn’t busy like a hospital should be and why he wasn’t allowed out of his room. It was entirely possible that someone was posted outside of his door at all times and he just couldn’t see them.

Mr. Hill dug into his case files and pulled out a thick stack of papers, holding them out to Adam. “While we wait, here are some publications I printed out that go over some of the laws and the procedures you’ll want to be familiar with for when your court date arrives. It seems like you’ll have nothing but time on your hands in here after I leave, so I expect you’ll be able to become quite familiar with them.”

Adam stared at the papers hesitantly. It was all so depressing. Eventually, he reached his right hand out, though with little more speed than a sloth. He took the papers and passively placed them on his lap. The light from his eyes had gone. He stared past the objects. Mr. Hill said something about needing to leave and offered his hand for a shake. Adam shook it absentmindedly, and the man left with his briefcase full of bad news.

Somehow a colorless world had fallen around Adam like a veil. He thought Harun El-Hashem had taken something from him when he’d shot him in the head, maybe he hadn’t.

A phone rang, a trill, digital ring that Adam recognized. He hadn’t known where it came from at first. The meagerly furnished cell had no place to hide a phone, really. On the second ring, Adam pinpointed it. He strained himself to roll over on the bed and peek under it. He’d forgotten about the papers on his lap, which spilled onto the floor. Adam cursed his absentmindedness and pressed onward. Sitting just beneath the edge of the bed was a phone—Adam’s cell phone. As it continued to ring, Adam puzzled at it. How long had it been sitting there? Why was it sitting there? It didn’t seem to be for a purpose. It looked as if someone just tossed it there as an afterthought, like they were throwing it away. Was he allowed to have his cellphone in his confinement?

Adam grabbed the phone and arduously pushed himself back into the bed, where he could relax. When he read the screen, all his concerns washed away, and he quickly answered it. “Chrissy?”

“Hi, Adam,” the beauty’s sweet voice said.

“Hey!” Adam smiled. Warm relief washed over his body. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Adam. I’m doing pretty good.” Her voice sounded kind of sad to Adam. “How are you?”

“Bah, it sucks here. Why haven’t you come to see me yet?” Adam asked. “Wait, did you come to see me already?”

“No, I haven’t. I didn’t want to come see you.”

“Why not?”

“I just . . . couldn’t. I . . .”

“Look, Christina, if it’s about the things they’re saying about me, they’re not true. I’m not a traitor. I led Harun out of there to save lives—”

“No, Adam, it’s not about that, I just . . .” Christina sniffled. “I have something to tell you. I couldn’t tell you in person.”

A lump grew in Adam’s throat and his skin became clammy. “Okay.”

Christina took a moment to gather herself and then said, “While you were in a coma—no . . .” Adam heard Christina inhale sharply and then release a huge sigh before continuing. “It was actually before that, while you were in Afghanistan. I . . . I started seeing Danny Lacey. We’ve been together for a long time now, and things are getting really serious. I know I’m an awful person. I tried to stay faithful to you while you were away, but I was so lonely. If you were around more, maybe things could have been different, but now this is how it is. I love him. He was there for me, and he’s a good lover.”

Hot tears welled up in Adam’s eyes as Christina spoke, tears of disgust, betrayal, aggression, and terrible sadness. They wallowed, stinging his dry eyes at first and then finally released, racing down his cheeks. Adam wasn’t prone to crying, and it did not come naturally to him. He sniffled, sitting in stunned silence while Christina continued to try to explain in the background. She stumbled over her words and mostly could only reiterate points she’d already covered as if she could make it sound less horrible and Adam might come to understand better the second time around. Maybe she expected him to be mature about it, to be a man. Maybe she expected him to say, “Oh, okay! Danny sure does sound like a swell guy! I don’t see why you were ever with me with him around! I wish the both of you all the happiness in the world!” What a joke.

Even worse, Benito had been right about her. She had been calling Adam, pretending everything was good between them, and all the while she had been sleeping with Danny behind his back. Her smile was a mask she wore to hide the ugliness their relationship had become.

Adam reached up with his thumb and silenced Christina in the middle of one of her redundant sentences. He didn’t have anything to say to her anymore. He didn’t have any words for anybody. He wanted to retreat from the world, just go to sleep and never wake up, live in his dreams while eternity decayed outside the walls.



Later, Adam still sat in his bed, staring at one of the prints his new lawyer had given him. The pile of papers had been collected from the floor and tossed back onto the blankets in another crooked stack. Whoever had retrieved them didn’t care much—probably Adam.

The words Adam was trying to read blurred in front of his eyes. He couldn’t focus and was collecting no information. While he scanned the document, he did notice something strange in one of the sentences: “A trial counsel shall not file a notice of appeal under R.C.M. 908 HAVE A GOOD CRY? unless authorized to do so by the GCM authority or the SJA.” Adam blinked his tired eyes. The words he thought he saw remained. They stood out from the rest of the monotonous text like the only fresh grass in a torched field. Other similar phrases caught Adam’s eye further down the page.

Crybaby, it said.

Weakling.

It’s no wonder she left you.

Too weak.

Admit it.

Adam dropped the paper and rubbed his eyes. His headache quickly returned and stronger than ever. It rocketed past its previous intensity, and Adam cradled his head in his hands. He could feel the indentation in his bandage where his skull wasn’t there to support it underneath. There instead was the exit wound of a nine-millimeter bullet.

“What’s happening to me?” he whimpered. His brain was melting in his skull. He was seeing things and losing track of time. He didn’t even know how he’d gotten there. He didn’t remember how the papers got back onto his bed. He didn’t remember anything of what he’d been reading, and the words themselves were indecipherable to his addled mind.

Something wet and warm drizzled down Adam’s face in one neat strand. It traveled from his forehead, in between his nose and left eye, and past the corner of his mouth. Horrified, Adam touched two fingers to the fluid. When he pulled the hand away, he discovered the deep red of his own blood.

“I’m dreaming,” he told himself. “None of this is real. I’m seeing things again.” He closed his eyes. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. I need to wake up.”



Adam’s eyes popped open to the plain white of the hospital ceiling above him. He didn’t panic like the first time. He only lay in bed quietly. He immediately wanted to know where the dream had begun. He so desperately hoped it had begun before he spoke on the phone with Christina. But if it had, then did he also imagine the exchange with the lawyer? Did he have his radio? Did he ever actually wake up?

There was a simple test for that. Adam looked to see if the papers he had been given were anywhere to be seen. To his dismay, he immediately spotted them stacked neatly next to his right arm. The person who discovered them and then stacked them with such care, sat at Adam’s bedside. Her legs were crossed, and half of her face was hidden behind a print copy of The Hobbit, which she read wearing her black-framed reading glasses.

“Téa?” Adam dared to ask.

Téa looked over the top of her book, and Adam saw her cheeks get pushed up from the smile that was hidden just beneath. When she lowered the book, she beamed. “Hi, Adam!”

Adam was wary. “Are you here to mess with me too?”

Téa looked concerned. “What? Adam, no. Of course not. How could you say that? What’s been happening to you in here?”

Adam sighed. Téa’s feelings were always fragile. “I’m sorry. It’s just that a lot of weird stuff’s kind of going on with me right now.”

Téa closed her book and set it in her lap. “Well, tell me. I want to help.”

Adam looked at Téa, the exhaustion and defeat apparent in his red eyes. “You can’t help, Téa. It’s nothing anyone can help with.”

Téa’s bright eyes pleaded with Adam. “I want to try.”

Téa had always been sensitive and sympathetic. A different kind of heart beat inside of her. Adam knew that, so he let go. Tears once again collected in his eyes, tears that didn’t sting, tears that

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