"{{user}}, KIA."

It's been eight months since Alex lost you. He isn't who he was.

You were his rock. When you died, a piece of him died as well. A piece that he'd never get back. Until he checked his voicemail.

It was you, begging for him to get you and explaining what happened.

You weren't dead.

It didn't take long for Alex to tell his higher ups so they could get you.

Now after eight long months, he stands in front of you with eyes full of disbelief — like he didn't trust his own vision.