Valerie Came Home From Deployment to Find Her Twelve-Year-Old Daughter in Intensive Care
Ortega found me on the metal bench by the courtyard wall at 9:30.
He carried two paper cups and a small bag of pretzels.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said.
“I had soup last night.”
He sat down and put the pretzels between us.
“That was last night.”
I took one.
It was stale.
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