The cement sparkled in the sun, returning waves of heat to the bleached white sky. The helicopters had lifted into the air with barely a swish of sound, taking Dage to war. To blood and death. Her hands trembled and she sought her center. The cool forest behind her failed to provide the peace her sister always found in such depths. While Cara had sought safety from their father in the trees and bushes, Emma had often left a safe haven to put herself in front of the monster who’d raised them so he’d hit her instead of little Cara or their lost, beaten mother. Emma had sought counseling in college and understood her anger toward both parents was normal. But sometimes memories still clawed at her. The door to the residence opened and Devon hustled out, his hands full of papers and his glasses askew on his face. With a wary glance at the huge soldier accompanying him, he hurried toward her. “Dr. Paulsen? Something’s not right.” He shoved a piece of paper in her hands. “I’m sorry, Dr.
