Chapter 21: The Arrival of the Bag

The dust at COP Titan never truly settled, but on mail call days, it felt lighter. A resupply bird had touched down an hour ago, and the heavy green bags were being hauled into the center of the bay. For soldiers in a place like this, a letter was more than paper; it was proof that a world existed outside the jagged ridges of the Kunar.

I stood by my locker, watching the men crowd around. Stitch was practically vibrating, hoping for a package of those Texas tamales he wouldn't stop talking about. Even SFC Viper had a small, expectant look on his face as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Alright, settle down," SSG Miller barked, reach into the bag. "Moreno! You got a box that smells like a spice cabinet. Jax! Three letters. Shepard! A card from your kid."

I stayed back. I rarely got mail. My past was a series of closed doors and burned bridges, a childhood spent dodging shadows in a house that smelled of stale smoke and rot. I’d joined the Army to disappear, to trade one kind of war for another—one where the rules were at least written in a manual.

"Ramírez," Miller said, his voice dropping slightly. "You got one. Handwritten."

I froze. I hadn't given my address to anyone. I stepped forward, my hand outstretched, but a large, calloused hand intercepted it.

Thorne.

He had snatched the envelope from Miller’s hand before I could reach it. He was leaning back against a bunk, a cruel glint in his eyes that I hadn't seen since I’d patched his head. Maybe it was the boredom of the tactical pause, or maybe he just couldn't stand the way the unit had started to respect me.

"Give it back, Thorne," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

"What’s the matter, Witch? Afraid of a little news from home?" Thorne flipped the envelope over. "No return address. Just a postmark from the armpit of Ohio."

"Thorne, don't be a dick," Jax muttered, though he didn't move to stop him.

Thorne ignored him. He tore the top of the envelope with his thumb. I lunged for it, but he used his height to hold it above his head, pushing me back with his other arm.

"Let's see what the Witch's coven has to say," Thorne laughed. He cleared his throat and began to read, his voice booming through the silent barracks.