Chapter 22

San Francisco, CA –2023

A cold January rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the California coast into a watery mess. Sydney gripped the wheel, navigating the slick roads with practiced ease. Beside her, Halona shifted uncomfortably. Despite the heater blasting, a light chill clung to her skin, mixing with the nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Today was their first prenatal appointment, a chance to finally see the tiny miracle growing inside her.

"Nervous?" Sydney asked, stealing a glance at Halona's profile.

Halona confessed. "A little."

The doctor's office bustled with the usual pre-natal activity. Pregnant women in various stages of their journeys – some glowing, some haggard – filled the waiting room, their laughter and hushed conversations of shared experiences.

"Halona?" A cheerful nurse with bright pink scrubs called out.

Halona stood, her legs a touch wobbly, and Sydney squeezed her hand reassuringly. The nurse led them into a sterile white room filled with the comforting whir of unseen machinery. A woman with a warm smile and kind eyes introduced herself as Dr. Chen.

"Alright, let's get you comfortable," Dr. Chen said as she dimmed the lights slightly

The doctor applied a cool gel to Halona's abdomen and then pressed a transducer against the gel, its smooth surface sending chills down Halona's arms.

The room fell silent, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the machine. Sydney leaned closer, her hand finding Halona's. On the large screen mounted near the ceiling, a mesmerizing display flickered to life.

Grainy black and white images swirled into focus – a dark sac, a flicker of movement within. Halona gasped, her breath catching in her throat. There, nestled amidst the swirling shadows, was a tiny, fluttering form.

"There you go," Dr. Chen said with a warm smile, pointing at the screen. "That's your little one."

Halona squeezed Sydney's hand, her eyes glistening. "It's amazing," she whispered.

Dr. Chen expertly maneuvered the transducer, revealing more details: a tiny head, a budding torso, and the beginnings of limbs. Halona felt a swell of fierce protectiveness rise within her. This fragile, miraculous being was hers.

"Now," Dr. Chen said, her voice breaking the spellbinding silence, "would you like to know the sex of the baby?"

The doctor's question hung in the air, snapping Halona out of the wonder of seeing her baby on the screen. Finding out the sex hadn't been a big concern with everything else she was dealing with. Part of her craved the surprise, the joy of meeting her child face-to-face without any preconceived notions. But another part yearned to know. Already, she envisioned baby names and themed nurseries dancing in her head. It was a delightful internal tug-of-war between embracing the unknown and the comfort of having a plan.

With a deep breath, she looked at Dr. Chen, a wide grin on her face. "Yes, please!"

Dr. Chen chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She made a few adjustments to the image on the screen, zooming in on a specific area. "Well then," she announced, a playful flourish in her voice, "it looks like you're having a… little girl!"

The room erupted in cheers. Sydney whooped with delight, throwing her arms around Halona in a tight hug. Halona, overcome with a surge of joy, laughed and cried at the same time. A girl. She was having a daughter. The rest of the appointment flew by in a happy blur. Dr. Chen explained everything in detail, answering all her questions with a calm and reassuring manner. As they left the office, Halona felt lighter.

"So," Sydney said, buckling her seatbelt as they pulled onto the sun-drenched road, "baby shopping soon?"

Halona's smile widened. "Mhmm." She agreed, her hand resting on her still mostly flat stomach.

The drive home was filled with a comfortable silence punctuated by bursts of excited chatter. Halona pictured her daughter splashing in tide pools, her tiny hand reaching out to curious crabs and brightly colored fish. As Sydney pulled into her driveway, Halona felt a flutter in her stomach. It wasn't the baby, not yet, but a nervous excitement about starting the next chapter.

"Are you planning on making your guestroom into a nursery?" Sydney asked.

"I was thinking, I might consider moving," Halona mused, resting a hand on her stomach. Her modern and spacious home suddenly felt a little cold. "A place a little quieter more private. Out of the city."

Sydney glanced over at Halona, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips as she nodded. They'd been besties since third grade when Sydney's family moved from Ohio to California. Halona was hands-down the most popular girl in school, while Sydney was a total bookworm, always buried in a book or glued to the computer instead of hanging with friends. After a silly misunderstanding landed them both in the principal's office, an unlikely bond formed, and they'd been inseparable ever since.

As Sydney studied her friend, she couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts that had crept in over the past few months. Sometimes, Halona was her same old self – the vibrant, confident self that Sydney knew and loved. But other times, it was like she was a totally different person. At first, Sydney figured her subdued demeanor was just a trauma response from whatever hell she'd been through during her captivity, but the more she observed, the less it seemed like a typical reaction.

The moodiness, quietness, and secretiveness were all understandable, but Sydney just couldn't wrap her head around Halona's newfound skills in the kitchen. The girl she knew could barely scramble an egg, yet now she moved through the kitchen like a total pro, even making an entire pot-roast the night before last.

As the sun started its descent, painting the city skyline in warm hues, Sydney and Halona finally shut down their laptops, both wiped from the day's emotional roller coaster.

"Ugh, my back!" Sydney stretched, a satisfying crack echoing in the room.

"Hold on a sec," Halona said. "Damian sent some scripts he needs to go over tomorrow. Apparently, Zoom? Needs to be set up."

Sydney chuckled. "It's so weird how much you missed being gone for three years."

"Trust me, I know." Halona smirked and shifted her eyes toward Sydney.

Sydney downloaded the app and patiently walked Halona through the sign-in process. After exchanging hugs and a quick peck on the cheek, Sydney was out the door. Halona sat at the kitchen island and flipped through her text messages. Landing on the one from the private investigator, she quickly opened the image and took a shaky breath.

Halona had hired the P.I. and given him the name Lieutenant Colonel Todd Madison, along with the information that he was in the Marines during the war from 2001-2005. There, staring back at her, was his Marine Corps photo – he looked so young, but it was undoubtedly the same man she had met in that saloon all those years ago.

The file listed him as MIA, and she felt a pang of sorrow for his family, knowing the anguish of their loss and the unbearable uncertainty of not knowing his fate. But she also knew that the information she possessed could do little to alleviate their pain. Her eyes scanned the article and froze when she saw the word daughter. Pausing, she backtracked and read the text again. His daughter was born after he went MIA.

Chills ran down her arms.

For the next few minutes, Halona just let the tears roll down her cheeks. She knew all too well the heartache of losing a husband and she would soon be raising a child without their father. The little girl had never gotten the chance to know her dad.

Halona checked the locks on the doors and, after turning off the lights, climbed the stairs. She closed her eyes and smiled as the electric toothbrush hummed over her teeth, savoring the clean feeling of freshly brushed teeth – a simple pleasure she had missed dearly. She slipped into a pair of silk boxers and a cami, the delicate fabric caressing her skin.

Alone in her room, Halona basked in the cool sheets, reveling in the undeniable perks of being back home – soft bedding, air conditioning, and the blessed convenience of indoor plumbing. As she drifted off to sleep, the daunting realities of parenthood – sleepless nights and endless diaper changes – hadn't fully sunk in yet. For now, all she felt was the overwhelming joy of a tiny miracle growing inside her.