She froze, her face turning pale. She scooped up the child and turned to run. Mike didn’t think; he just reacted, sprinting after her. He needed answers.
The old wound was wide open now, bleeding fresh. He didn’t want to see her like this—broken and desperate. He caught up to her near the entrance to the platforms, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Sarah, stop!” he barked in his best Sergeant’s voice. “Stop right there!”
She turned around, and the look of pure hopelessness on her face nearly leveled him. She clutched the boy tighter, and tears began to stream down her face. Seeing his mother upset, the little boy started to cry too.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Mike stammered, his military bearing vanishing. He let go of her arm. “Just… just talk to me. Don’t run.”
“Let us go, Mike. You’re hurting me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “I just… I need to know what happened. I know you moved on, I know about the baby, and I was angry for a long time. But seeing you like this…”
“How did it come to this, Sarah? Why are you here? Why are you… asking for money?” Sarah just shook her head, unable to speak. “Last call for Track 9!” the station announcer boomed. “All passengers for the 4:15, please board now.”
Mike looked at the train, then back at the crying woman and child. He couldn’t leave them like this. It went against everything he believed in as a man and a soldier. “I’m staying!” he shouted to the conductor. “Get my bags off the train!”
The conductor looked confused but tossed Mike’s duffel bag onto the platform just as the train began to pull away. Mike grabbed his bag and turned back to Sarah. To his relief, she hadn’t run.
She had sat down on a nearby bench, trying to soothe the boy, who was now drifting off to sleep against her shoulder. Mike sat down a few feet away. The silence stretched between them for a long time.
Finally, Mike spoke. “My mother told me you were pregnant,” he said quietly. “Why didn’t you just tell me yourself? What happened?” “Oh, so Eleanor told you,” Sarah said with a bitter laugh. “And I’m sure you believed every word.”
“What was I supposed to think? You stopped writing, you disappeared, and clearly, the proof is sitting right there on your lap.” Mike nodded toward the boy. “The proof,” Sarah repeated. “You’re judging the book by the cover, Mike. You want the truth? Fine. Listen, and then you can decide what’s real.”
Four years ago, her world had ended. A week after Mike left, Sarah had gone to the local community college to finalize her nursing school application. She was excited, full of hope. As she left the building, she ran into Rick—Mike’s “best friend.”
Rick offered her a ride home, and Sarah, trusting him because of Mike, hopped in. On the way, he offered her a coffee he’d supposedly just picked up. She took a few sips and everything went black. She woke up hours later in a motel room, alone and disoriented. Her body told her everything she needed to know.
