“Damn, little bro, I’m going to have to take some tips from you when I get back to the real world. You’re looking hella GQ,” Gabe says as I turn this way and that in front of the camera. It feels a little stupid to be doing it at five in the morning, but it was the only time Gabe had available to get on Skype.

“Just trying to get a head start. I know once you get back here, you’re gonna have me wearing this damn thing for your wedding.”

Gabe chuckles, shrugging. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t have to wear a tux. The Class As are good for me.”

“You’re going to wear blue for your wedding?” I ask, smirking. “Maybe I’ll have to do green and yellow for mine someday, show some college spirit.”

Gabe laughs. “Getting ready for Oregon next year already? I don’t know if I see it. Show me some duck lips?” I pucker goofily and then laugh along with him. It feels good, like my brother is right here next to me, not half a world away. “So, this girl you’re going to prom with, she’s pretty special, huh? Special enough you’re picking your college with her?”

“Yeah,” I admit, leaning in closer. “I know I’m just eighteen and everyone’s gonna call me young and stupid, but I think she’s the one, man.”

Gabe holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Slow down, Aubrey. I don’t want to just be lumped in with everyone, but you’re not even out of high school yet. You’ve barely started your life. Don’t even worry about the one right now. Look at me, I’m twenty-five, and despite the jokes, I still don’t know if Angie and I are gonna get married. We have a lot of shit to sort out when I get home, and Lord knows, she’s put up with too much with my always being gone, but we’re both stepping up to see if we can be a family. But it’s a big, complicated, scary thing. Being an adult, making that commitment isn’t as easy as it seems when you’ve got stars in your eyes and the world at your feet.”

“Yeah, I appreciate what you’re saying, Gabe,” I reply, glad that he feels like he can trust me with this sort of talk. I know Mom would shit herself if she heard Gabe say he wasn’t a hundred percent convinced about marriage. “But I don’t know. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with Ana. Actually, I can’t see myself without her.”

Gabe narrows his eyes but nods. “Okay, man. Just do me a favor—don’t worry about that right now. There’s no rush. Just have fun with her and kick ass at Oregon. The rest will come when it does. I don’t want you to limit yourself and end up getting hurt.”

I laugh. “Me, get hurt? You should worry about yourself. You’re the one in a warzone.”

Gabe laughs. “Just a little longer and I’m out of here. Back to my family, Angie, and my unborn son. I’ve been saving up my leave time, so I should get a good couple of weeks after he’s born.”

I smile at the thought. Having Gabe around, holding the next generation of O’Days, sounds pretty awesome. “You and Angie making plans for the baby?”

Gabe tries to hem and haw for a moment before grinning. “Actually, we are. We haven’t told anyone this yet, but we’re gonna make him a junior . . . little Gabriel O’Day Jr. But don’t tell Mom and Dad that. I wanna see their faces.”

I smile wide. “No fucking way!” I shake my head. “You know Mom and Dad are gonna flip the fuck out, right?”

Gabe’s smirk is obvious, even through the digital static taking over the screen. “I know. It’s gonna be great.”

We both laugh again, the feeling so familiar, and I realize how much I miss his being here for daily chats. “So listen, I’ve gotta go, back on patrol in fifteen, and I gotta hit the head before I report for duty. But you have fun tonight, man. Prom is a big fucking deal, so make sure you do it right.”

“Will do, Bro. Next time you see me, I’ll wear my crown and you can call me King Aubrey.”

He snorts. “Doubtful. But you should definitely wear the crown so I can give you shit. Love you, Brother.”

“Love you too. Be safe,” I answer just as the call disconnects.

After I close Skype, I shake my head, tears burning my eyes. It’s always good to talk to Gabe, but when we hang up, it hits me how long it’s been seen I’ve actually seen him in person. As hard as that is for me, I know it’s a million times worse for him.

But for now, it’s time to get my ‘A’ game going. I’ve got about twelve hours until I pick up Ana, and my day is packed with a trip to the barber’s, a stop at the florist, and a detailed wash for my truck.

But none of those places open for another couple of hours, so I fall back into bed for a short catnap, knowing it’s going to be a late night, full of fun with the prettiest girl in the world on my arm.

I give Ana’s hand a squeeze as Mrs. Vereen’s spiel comes to an end.

I’m probably the least surprised person in the room when Ana’s announced as the winner, and I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Great job, my Sweet Ana. Now go on up there and get the throne warmed up. I’ll be right behind you.”

While the DJ plays some cheesy music, I watch as Ana walks to the stage, a stupid grin on my face as I wait for my turn. I feel a buzzing in my pocket, and realize I’ve left my phone on. Whoever is calling is going to have to wait. This is my moment and I’m not missing it.

But my phone keeps buzzing, damn-near going apeshit. Finally, I pull it out to see that it’s a call from Mom . . . and she’s not taking voicemail for an answer.

My heart skips a beat, and a dark sense of dread creeps over me. Mom knows how important tonight is. There’s no way she’d call multiple times if it wasn’t an emergency. Plugging one ear with my finger, I hit the pickup button. “Mom?”

“Oh, my God, Aubrey! We need you!” she screams so loudly I can hear it over Mrs. Vereen’s blathering. “Come home now!”

“What . . . what’s wrong?” I ask, scared at the desperate plea in her voice. “Mom?”

“Your brother. There was an explosion and he’s missing! They think he might . . . he might . . . Aubrey.” She’s hysterical, crying in my ear.

Dimly, in the back of my mind, I hear Mrs. Vereen announce my name, and I know around me, people are clapping, the noise annoying as I try to listen to my mom’s sob-filled words. But all I can think is . . .Gabe. Not Gabe.

Without thinking, I turn, shoving people out of the way. I can hear someone scream my name, and I think it might be Ana, but it doesn’t even register. Nothing registers.

I burst in the front door, eyes wildly looking around for my family. I hear hysterical sobbing coming from the kitchen. “Mom? Dad?” I say, running that way.

They’re sitting in the floor, on the cold tile, I think nonsensically. Dad’s holding Mom, who’s buried her head in his chest. They both look pale and their faces are awash with tears. Mom cries louder, opening her arms to me, and I rush forward, collapsing to my knees with them too. We hold each other for a second, the assurance that we’re here, together and real, a drop of support in a tornado of ‘what the fuck’.

“What happened?” I demand.

Dad points at the letter on the table, and I reach over, my fingers trembling as I pick it up.

The paper slips from my fingers to flutter to the floor, where it lands half-folded, the Army crest on top still visible. My heart feels frozen in my chest, and I sit back on my ass, my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees as I stare at the letter like it’s evil incarnate. “There’s gotta be a mistake. I–I just talked to him early this morning!”

Dad shakes his head. “The chaplain team left a few minutes before you got here. They said . . .” Dad chokes out before a sob tears from his throat, “They said that there is still hope, but I asked and—”

I can read between his words and shake my head. “No. Gabe’s a fighter. He’s got Angie and the baby. He’s gotta come back.”

Mom keeps crying hysterically, muttering over and over . . . my baby, not my baby. I can see the truth in Dad’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Son. They said with the location of the ambush, they’ll likely never find his body. For now, he’s MIA.”

“Oh, my fucking God,” I whisper, feeling like this is a nightmare.

It’s gotta be. This is just a bad dream after talking on Skype, and I’m gonna wake up any minute to get ready for prom. But it’s not.

I feel the world spin but try to hold on, to be strong for Gabe. “So, what do we do?”

“We just have to wait,” Dad says. “His unit will conduct search and rescue operations, and we’ll . . . we’ll wait.”

I nod, silently disagreeing with what Dad’s saying. I can’t wait around doing nothing. Gabe’s not dead. I have to believe that Gabe made it out. He’s resourceful and the toughest motherfucker I know. If anyone could survive a situation like that, it’s my big brother. I wish there was something, anything I could do. But I’m fucking useless, sitting in the floor with my parents a million miles away from him.

I scoot closer to Mom, placing my arm around her shoulders. “Just hang in there, Mom. Gabe is gonna be fine. We’re gonna hear from him soon.”

Something about my touch seems to strengthen her some, and she wipes at her eyes. “This can’t be happening. I refuse to believe it.”

The phone rings, and all of us freeze, a hope that there’s been some mistake taking root for a split second before Dad checks the caller ID and answers, “Angie?”

Oh, God. Angie. She must be going crazy too. “Does she know?” I ask Mom, who nods.

“Yes, your father called her while I called you.”

Dad is listening intently. “Okay, yeah . . . understood. We’re on our way.” He hangs up, taking a steadying breath as he turns to us.

“That was Angie’s father. After I hung up with her, she was understandably upset. She’s having some contractions, so they’re taking her to the hospital for observation. He . . . uh . . . well, he recommended we come. Now.”

Mom gasps. “No! Not the baby too! That might be our only link to Gabe!” she cries out, giving voice to our deepest fear. That Gabe could be dead. That his unborn son might be the only piece left of him in the world beyond the memories in our hearts.