I leaned back.
And whispered the words I had been too proud to say for fourteen months.
“I’m scared.”
Vega nodded.
“I know.”
Then he did something I never expected.
He reached over and placed his hand on mine.
Not as an instructor.
Not as a sergeant.
Not as someone trying to make me stronger.
Just as another human being.
“You don’t have to prove anything today,” he said.
And for once, I believed him.
PART 4
The biopsy was scheduled for four days later.
Four days.
It sounded short when the doctor said it.
It felt endless to me.
I went back to the barracks under temporary medical restrictions.
No running.
No heavy lifting.
No selection exercises.
No rucksack.
For the first time since arriving at selection, nobody was telling me to move faster.
I hated it.
The silence was worse than the shouting.
Every morning, I woke before reveille and stared at the ceiling.
I kept thinking about the same question.
What if it came back?
Then another question followed.
What would I do if it did?
I didn’t have an answer.
On the second morning, there was a knock at my door.
I opened it and found Vega standing there with two coffees.
