And I cry
'Cause I'm all alone
And the nights get so cold and long
And I try not to think he won't come home
But I'm sleeping with the telephone
-Reba McEntire, "Sleeping with the Telephone"

Fallujah, Iraq

Miles

"Look, just let me go, please. I swear I'll find my way back to camp, and I won't tell anyone about this," I begged, knowing I was grasping at straws, but I was desperate to get out of whatever the hell this was.

The men looked at each other and laughed. "I don't think so," the short, squatty man sneered. "We took you for a reason, and we're not letting you go until we get what we need."

I shook my head. "I don't have anything. What is it you want?"

"You know what we want, infidel," the man who had been holding my mouth muttered.

"I swear, I don't. Why don't you tell me, and I'll see what I can do?" My eyes darted around the room, and when they landed on an infamously familiar black and white flag, my heart sank. ISIS.

The taller man scoffed. "You really are a dumbass."

I bristled and narrowed my eyes, but I decided it would be idiotic to argue. "Fine. You are 100% correct. I'm a dumbass. So I have nothing you need. Let me go."

"Stupid fucking American. We know you don't have what we need. You're a fucking bridgebuilder," the taller man spat.

I'm also an engineer, I thought, but again, chose my words carefully. "Right. So..."

The squatty man leaned over until his face was inches from mine. His breath was sour, and my stomach turned. "We need information. And you're our leverage. Your commander either tells us your platoon's next moves, or you're dead. It's pretty fucking simple."

My heart banged against my chest as I swallowed hard. "How long have I been here... and how?"

"A few days ago, we placed an IED, and you were the survivor we got our hands on." A sinister laugh slipped past the tall man's chapped, cracked lips.

Survivor? Does that mean...

He must've seen the terror on my face because he smirked. "Yeah, we killed most of them. Good riddance. The others hobbled off, probably lost a limb or two."

My stomach lurched again as I thought of my fellow soldiers... Dale.

"You bastards," I snarled; I had lost grip on my self-control.

A heavy hand crashed into my face, and I fell backwards against the wall, slamming my head against the cracked concrete. I felt blood run down the back of my neck, as my eyes fell closed, I thought of Rachel, alone and scared.

Tallahassee, Florida

Rachel

It had been five days since I found out Miles was missing in action, and I felt no better.

In fact, I felt worse.

Everything in me told me that this was a really bad situation. He wasn't just lost in the desert somewhere; I knew in my heart that he was in immediate danger.

And what killed me is that there was nothing I could do.

I was used to being able to fix things, but this was unfixable. All I could do was sit on the couch in the living room and stare at the door or at my phone, waiting to hear from Major Thomas. He promised he would be in touch as soon as he heard anything at all.

Leaving PCB had been hard, considering all I really wanted to was curl up on my parents' couch and cry on my mom's shoulder. But I had to come back home because I'd already missed a day of class. I couldn't afford to get behind in school, but my mind was anywhere but.

I got to class early and sat down in my regular seat, putting my head down on the table as I waited for 10:00 and class to start.

"Rachel," a voice said lowly from above.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head to see Alex standing over me.

"Hey, Alex," I muttered, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of Miles' baseball t-shirt I had worn. I hadn't worn any makeup or bothered to even brush my hair – it was still in the ponytail from last night.

He sat down next to me and looked at me with concern. "How are you?"

I shook my head once and closed my eyes. "I can't talk about it. Unless you want me to become a sobbing wreck," I muttered.

"No, no. I definitely don't want that." He pushed a folder across the table to me. "Here's the instructions for our group project. Brittany got paired with Jackson, but Professor York paired you and I together. I hope that's all right," he said as I opened the folder and looked over its contents with half-hearted interest.

"That's fine," I said dully, putting the folder in my backpack. "When is it due?"

"A week from today."

"Fine... we can go to the library tonight if you want."

"The library is actually closed starting today and into tomorrow. They're doing some sort of pest control thing," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh. Well, you can come over to the apartment, then. I need to be there as much as possible anyway just in case Major Thomas comes by," I said.

He nodded. "All right. I'll come over after my workout and bring the work I've already done. I got started so we wouldn't have quite as much to do."

"Okay... thanks, Alex," I responded, and right then, Professor York came in and class started.

***

When I got home from campus, the apartment was empty. Jessica left me a note to let me know that she and Parker had gone to dinner and a movie and wouldn't be back until after 10.

I checked my computer for any missed Skype calls, and of course, there were none. I slammed the MacBook closed and lay on the bed on my back, staring at the ceiling. How was I supposed to concentrate on anything else? I didn't give a flying rat's ass about the project for class; to be honest, I had no interest in anything at all. I hadn't even eaten since I left my parents' house, and I only did there because my mother forced me. Eating was one of my favorite things, and I didn't even have the energy or want to do that.

Just then, my doorbell rang, and I peeked out the peephole to make sure it was Alex. It was, and I let him in.

"Hey," I greeted him, opening the door wider so he could step over the threshold.

"Hey, Rach." He looked at me with concern. "You look pale; are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I don't even know anymore."

"When's the last time you ate?" he asked, and something on his face told me not to lie to him.

"Before I left my parents' house," I mumbled, plopping down on the couch and burying my head in the pillows.

"What?" he roared, and I turned my head to look at him.

"I just haven't been hungry," I responded, sitting up and pushing my hair out of my face.

"That was three days ago, Rachel!"

"The human body can go three weeks without food." My voice cracked, and I thought about Miles lost out in the desert with no food or water.

He rolled his eyes and pulled me off the couch, dragging me to the kitchen. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean it should," he growled, pulling a chair out for me and opening the pantry.

"Ugh," I groaned as he handed me a granola bar.

"Eat this for now, and I'm going to cook you something," he insisted, giving me a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Fine," I grumbled, opening the granola bar and taking a bite. Damnit, that's good, I thought.

He rooted through the pantry and the fridge. "You have no food."

I laughed humorlessly and took the last bite of the granola bar. "I know. I haven't exactly been to the store in a while."

"Get dressed. We're going to get Chinese."

***

A few minutes later, we were in a booth at Chop Stix, a Chinese place not far from my apartment.

The sweet and savory smell of chicken filled my nostrils as the waitress sat my sweet-n-sour chicken in front of me.

"Thank you," Alex said with a smile. 

I hated to admit it, but I was starving. Picking up my fork, I took a bite and sat back against the cushioned booth. "Mmmm. That's good," I admitted.

He smiled as he took a bite of his own. "I know. See? You were hungry."

I sighed as I chewed. "I know... it just didn't feel right to eat when I didn't know if Miles was hungry or not."

Alex tilted his head to the side. "I understand, but Miles wouldn't want you to starve yourself."

I nodded. "I know. Thanks, Alex. I probably would've ended up passing out if you hadn't forced me to eat."

Shrugging, he said, "That's what friends are for, Rach."

I gave him a small smile and continued to eat.

As we were walking out of the restaurant, my phone began to buzz. I pulled it frantically out of my pocket and looked at the screen.

"Oh my God, Alex."

It was a Skype call.

Not from Miles, but from Dale.