I returned home from military service, hoping to see my wife’s smile. Instead, I found a coffin in the middle of the living room. “She d:ied in childbirth…”

Caleb, watching me like guards.

“Where is my son?” I asked.

“He survived,” Mother replied. “Barely. Emily was careless.”

Caleb leaned against the fireplace, drinking whiskey. “She always was dramatic.”

My hands shook as I reached for Emily. I had spent eleven months disarming roadside explosives, reading disturbed earth, noticing wires thinner than hair.continue reading …