Chapter one

Martin stands in the middle of the street, almost at the top of the hill. His eyes wander around his surroundings, surveying the copious trees. He is petrified; it is almost too easy to tell. His face is caked with dirt and dried blood. His suit is mangled. His once elegant shirt is torn in many places, revealing scratches on his broad chest and arms. It is soiled with dirt and blood, resembling his face. He pants heavily, trying to find somewhere to hide. But he is too late.

A white pickup truck reaches the top of the hill. By the time the driver sees the disoriented man standing in the road, there is no time to stop.

Martin hears honking, but has no time to react. He turns his head just in time for his heart to stop with fear. The pickup truck crashes into him. He is thrown into the air, hitting his head on the windshield and cracking it. His lifeless body flies through the air. He lands on the pavement with a sickening thud. His eyes are open. Blood pours from the gash in his head. Martin is dead.

--

Samantha jolts awake. She sits up on the bed. Her arms immediately wrap around herself to comfort her. The summer sun shines through the stained glass window. She smiles. It was only a dream. However, she has a harder time convincing her sweat ducts that as she is covered in a cold sweat. It is then that she realizes that Martin isn't next to her, but that is quickly forgotten when she hears a small laugh coming from down the hall. Without reservation, Samantha is on her feet, walking briskly to the nursery.

The nursery is covered in blue wallpaper with smiling moons greeting the room's occupants. The crib sits on the back wall which is accented with a blue blanket Martin's mother made for her first grandchild. Over the crib hangs a mobile of smiling moons and stars. When turned on, the mobile spins slowly and sings a soothing melody for baby. In the corner is a changing station with diapers, wipes, and baby powder on its shelves. On the right wall is a tiny oak dresser carrying the tiny clothes of the new born. A small stained glass window allows the sun's rays to distort into different colors, settling on the walls and white carpet. Next to the dresser sits an oak rocking chair. It is there that Samantha finds Martin with his arms wrapped around a tiny bundle.

Martin doesn't see Samantha leaning in the doorway watching the interaction between her husband and her son. Instead, the baby's bright blue eyes captivate him. He taps his pointer finger gently on the baby's button nose. When a smile arouses from the new born, Martin laughs with delight. When he hears Samantha's laughter, he looks up. His wife is perched in the doorway with her arms crossed, smiling. Martin smiles and stands up, carefully holding his baby in his arms. He hands the squirming baby to Samantha. "I fed and changed him," he says.

Samantha directs her attention to the baby in her arms for a second. Her eyes avert from Nolan to her husband, giving him a bright smile. "I'm impressed," she laughs.

Martin leans in and kisses Samantha hard on the lips, careful not to disturb Nolan. "I have to go to work," he informs. "I love you."

Samantha frowns slightly at the thought of Martin going back to work without her. But Martin was given two weeks off to welcome their new baby home. It is time for him to go back to work. But as she watches Martin disappear down the hallway and down the stairs, she realizes that in a few more months her maternity leave will be over, and she would have to return to work, leaving her baby for the first time. "Love you, too," she calls.

Samantha looks down at the two week old. His tiny mouth lets out a yawn, and his arms and legs stop working as he relaxes into his mother's arms. She sets him in the crib, turning on the mobile. Nolan's eyes flutter closed almost immediately.

Samantha immediately takes advantage of her new born's nap. She knows that he'll be up in about four hours or less, so she quickly jumps in the shower. Taking only a few minutes to scrub, she gets out, immediately heading towards Nolan's room. It's her first time with him by herself. Nerves rack her brain. She doesn't know why, but the nerves exist.

Samantha hears a knock on the door. She glances at the clock. It's almost three. Nolan had been awake a few times already, and her body shows evidence of exhaustion. Samantha makes her way across the living room and opens the door. She finds Jack and Elena standing on the porch; their eyes looking at her, but not burning into her irises. "Hey guys," she smiles, not catching their distressed expressions. She wasn't expecting to see them until she went back to work, but having visitors was always welcome. She opens the door wider to allow her colleagues access to her house.

Elena leads the way into Samantha and Martin's house. They walk to the living room, but they don't sit. Instead, they stare at her with sadness in their eyes.

Samantha wanders into the kitchen. "Do you guys want anything to drink?" she asks. She stares at them. Her only response is silence and sad eyes. "Nolan is sleeping." Her assumption for their visit is wrong. Her shoulders droop as she finally realizes their expressions. "What's wrong?" She joins them in the living room, resting her hand on the back of the couch. Her eyes dart between the two of them.

"Maybe you should sit down," Jack suggests. He watches her intently.

Samantha knows what those words mean. After all, she's spoken those words before. She clutches her stomach as her intestines begin to intertwine themselves. "No," she says, her voice is strong. "What happened?" She immediately wonders about her dream of Martin's death.

Jack and Elena look at each other as if silently debating which one is going to break the news first. Elena steps towards Samantha with only a few seconds hesitation. She grabs Samantha's hand. "Sweetie," she begins, "today Martin was out in the field." She pauses to collect her breathing. "The man with a gun snuck up behind him."

Samantha rips her hand away from Elena. She fumbles backwards, still clutching her stomach. She is scared. Her face softens; it is full of fear. Her breathing becomes abnormal. "What…what are you saying?" On some level, she knows the answer.

Elena's eyes fill with tears. "Martin's dead," she says. Compassion and sympathy drip from her voice.

Samantha looks towards the ground. She avoids their wandering eyes. She doesn't cry, however. Shock is too prevalent in her brain. Instead, she stands there. As Jack begins to explain the situation, she tunes him out. She doesn't hear. The only thing she can hear is her heart pumping furiously.

"Honey?" Elena asks. She knows Samantha isn't listening to Jack's explanation.

Samantha barely rotates her head to look at Elena. "Yeah, sorry." She pauses, trying to decide what to do next. "Can I—I just want to be alone right now," she explains.

"You don't have to—" Elena begins. She's interrupted by Samantha's voice.

"Please," she hollers. Her voice is forceful. She is vulnerable and in pain. She refuses to show it right now.

Elena rubs Samantha's shoulders. "Okay," she whispers. "If you need anything, call me."

Samantha smiles and watches them turn. She follows them. She stands in the doorway and watches them exit. While descending the stairs, Jack stops and turns around. "I'm so sorry," he says. He's sorrowful. He lost a good agent and friend.

Samantha simply gives them a weak smile before closing the door. She stands by the door, her hands still clutching the door knob. At first, her eyes sweep the interior of their house, the one that she and Martin bought together. It takes a few minutes for the tears to come. But when they do, they pour down her face in an unusual intensity, causing her whole body to shake. Her heart aches; she feels as if it is going to burst.