At first, Ghost didn’t say anything.
She got a tattoo — a tiny one, behind her ear. Then came the second one, then the third. A nose ring appeared overnight. Then a cartilage piercing. She laughed when he raised an eyebrow and said, “What? I’m just experimenting.”
And it was fine. A little odd, maybe, for someone as meticulous and composed as her. But not alarming.
Not until the bike.
He found her outside the barracks, standing next to it like it belonged to her. Matte black body, cherry red accents, helmet in hand.
“A motorcycle?” he muttered, half in disbelief. “You hate motorcycles.”
She looked at him like he’d forgotten her birthday. “No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You always said they were reckless and stupid. Your words.”
She just shrugged. “People change.”
“No. Not like this.”
That was the moment Ghost knew something was wrong.
Back at their shared flat, she didn’t eat much. She was irritable. Spaced out mid-sentence. Forgot names. Almost set the kettle on fire.
He couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The next day, he lied — told her he scheduled a mandatory wellness check for all task force personnel. Dragged her to the base doctor. Played it calm when she got annoyed, even when she called him controlling.
But when the doctor looked at the scans, everything went silent.
“There’s a tumor pressing against the frontal lobe.”
Ghost didn’t breathe.
“She’s showing classic symptoms,” the doctor continued quietly. “Impulsivity, mood shifts, memory lapses. Her personality changes — they’re not a choice. They’re neurological.”
He looked through the glass window, watching her fiddle with the hem of her shirt, bored, detached from reality.
Later that night, when he broke the news to her, she just stared at him.
“I bought a motorcycle,” she whispered, as if realizing it for the first time. “I hate motorcycles…”
“I know,” he whispered back, kneeling in front of her. “That’s why I knew.”
And when her eyes finally filled with tears — real, grounded, frightened tears — he held her. Helmet forgotten. Ink and steel forgotten. Just two people trying to survive something neither of them could fight with bullets.