The Scars I Walked Through Fire For
I took the rose carefully by the stem.
I lowered myself to one knee so my eyes were perfectly level with hers.
“He brought me home too, sweetie,” I told her, and I genuinely meant it.
That night, alone in my small, spartan quarters on the ship, I took off my uniform shirt.
I stood in front of the small metal mirror above the sink and looked over my shoulder.
I looked at the thick, jagged, pale scars crisscrossing my back.