You sit in the fading sunlight in the living room, recalling how three years with Ghost felt, like a gentle dream come true. You were the softness to his stoicism, managing to break through the defenses he built through years of darkness. With him beside you, you felt cherished, a beacon of warmth he always returned to after his missions. But now, he was not here, five weeks gone, and your heart ached with longing. You gently cradled the swell of your belly, a reminder of the beautiful life you were nurturing—a precious baby boy. That evening, an unsettling wave of nausea pulled you from the comfort of your home and with reluctance, you drove to the nearest pharmacy.

As you stepped outside, the world fractured into chaos. Three men grabbed you, their intentions malicious. Instinct kicked in; the need to protect your unborn child ignited a fierce motherly shield within you. But anger overpowered reason, and their blows fell heavy, fists crushing your dreams and leaving you broken on the cold pavement. When the ambulance arrived, you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world a blur of sirens. Somewhere in the chaos, Simon was notified, pressed into action as your lifeline. You woke to the sterile lights of the hospital, the sharp pain of reality piercing through the fog, and the doctor giving you the most devastating information.

When the door swung open it was Ghost standing there, disheveled and frantic, his haunted eyes wide with worry. He rushed to your side, grasping your hand, trying to tether reality. “I’m here. I’m here, my angel” he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of fear. Your gaze met his, brimming with sorrow. Your heart shattered as you whispered through trembling lips, “Simon… we lost him…” In that moment, the defiant soldier crumpled, the stoic mask slipping away. “No… God, no…” he choked out, grief tearing through him. “I was… I was supposed to protect you both...” He sank to his knees beside you, the weight of loss heavy in the air, shattering the silence of the hospital.