Page 27 of Firefly

The air was filled with screams and wails as each bomb took dozens of lives and injured countless others.

Rebecca walked among them, resting a gentle hand against the forehead of a pale-faced soldier no more than seventeen. His body shook with tremors, but he couldn’t move his head enough to see his mangled body. It was better that way.

What was left of him couldn’t be mended.

She knelt beside him and gripped his hand, whispering a prayer for his soul. “Am I gonna die?” he asked through clenched teeth.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. In a voice that wasn’t her own, she said, “Yes. But your soul will be in Heaven.”

A single tear slid down his face as he blinked once before his eyes glazed, staring at nothing.

Rebecca was propelled backward, shooting through space and time to land on her bed.

She blinked, sucking in a breath, and touched her fingers to her cheeks, wiping away tears.

Glancing to her right, she found Sarah tucked into the crook of her arm and sighed. A dream. It was a dream. No doubt some manifestation of the horrid news that had been reported of the war these past six months.

Six months. The length of time since Simon had been wiped from her universe and her whole world had imploded. She hadn’t believed her father at first, but when a week stretched into a month and one month turned into two, she knew it must be true. Simon wouldn’t leave her again. Not willingly.

Her father had found a way to end him. Permanently.

Now, she had only one reason to go on: Sarah. She pulled the girl closer.

She had turned twenty-four a few weeks ago. Sarah was four. The pain was back. And the weakness. Somehow, none of it mattered.

Thea came into the room, sliding the curtains back. Rebecca rolled onto her side, away from the light.

“Come on, Rebecca, Sarah will want to play with you. Let’s get dressed.”

Rebecca pulled her blankets over her head. Sarah squirmed beside her, kicking at the covers.

“Mama, stop.”

Rebecca groaned, but let the blankets fall away.

Sarah sat up, holding her hands out for Thea, who scooped her up and set her down beside the bed.

“Come on, Mama. It’s pretty.”

Rebecca rolled over, giving them her back.

“Let’s go down and have some breakfast,” Thea said.

“No.” Sarah’s stubborn tone meant she was brewing for a fight today.

“We should let your mama rest, Sarah.”

“No.”

The blankets were tugged off the bed, and Rebecca rolled over to meet her child’s steely-eyed stare.

“Mama’s tired, sweet girl.”

“Get up,” Sarah said.

Rebecca sighed. “If I come to the garden, will you be content?”

Sarah appeared to consider, then nodded.

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