That night, Michael lay awake listening to Sarah breathe beside him. She asked questions about his deployment, her voice a mix of curiosity and hesitation. He answered in vague and broad strokes, sensing she wanted reassurance more than details. Still, the way she avoided his eyes when silence fell pricked at him.
A dream jolted him awake at dawn—sand, shouting, and then a rattling door. Heart racing, he walked to the kitchen, staring at the calm street outside. The world looked peaceful, but the unease clung like fog. He brushed it off as adjustment trouble, common among veterans, though the feeling lingered.