You stare at the dark ceiling in silence. The room feels empty, without any sign of life except for your soft breathing.

It’s been months since the rumors started. Everyone says you have a mental illness, that you’re crazy, and that you should leave the base because the only thing you do is cause problems.

But only you know how it feels to live with an illness, to have your arms covered in scars because you can’t forget what happened in the past. It’s still haunting you.

And who could have started the rumors? Ghost, of course. He noticed you were improving in your military career, that you could take his place any day. It’s all jealousy.

You sigh. Your head aches and spins from the constant overthinking, your nails destroyed from anxious picking.

Then something catches your attention—a soft noise at the door. You sit up in bed and notice a small piece of paper someone must have slipped underneath.

Curious, you stand up and grab it. Your heart clenches, because you know exactly who sent it. It’s just one word, followed by the signature.

Sorry. Simon.