“I’m sure. Authorities are going to want to debrief you on everything you saw while you were in the compound.”
“I know.”
“The general’s arranged for someone to fly home with you and do it on the plane.”
“Sounds lovely, but I’m not going home.”
He ignored her sarcasm and pulled out his phone. “I need a picture.”
“What? Here? Now? Are you crazy? I look like death on crutches.” And still sort of felt like it too. She swallowed, her throat dry and cheeks hot. Did she have a fever?
“You look . . . not quite that bad,” he said.
“Hey!”
He grinned, then sobered. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters. But the picture’s not for me. I need to prove to Brooke, Heather, Kat, and someone named Ava that you are, in fact, breathing and recovering nicely. Brooke keeps texting, demanding proof.”
“Ah.” Brooke Adams, Heather Fontaine, Katherine—Kat—Patterson, and Ava Jackson. “Ava’s been my best friend since elementary school.” The other three ladies she’d met while they’d all been in Kabul at the same time. Ava had been there, too, for a short time but had never met Gavin. “Okay, you can snap it, but tell them to delete it the minute they’re satisfied I’m fine.”
“Got it.” After he sent the text, he looked her over. “You’re fortunate you had that satellite phone.”
“Fortune had nothing to do with it. Last year, it came in handy, and I’ve carried it ever since. I always knew something like that could happen, was even surprised most days when it didn’t. But I wasn’t going to be caught with no way to call for help.”
“Smart.”
Her smile faded to a frown. “Why is the general insisting I go home? I can recover nicely right here and then get back to work. I’m planning a trip home in about two weeks. Dustin and I coordinated that so we could be home together, but in the meantime, I’ve got stories I’m working on. And now, I’ve got one more.”
Gavin blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “The general didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
He shifted and rubbed a hand over his beard.
“Gavin, what is it?”
“There’s no easy way to say this, but you’ve been discharged from the Army. You’ve been diagnosed as . . . uh . . . as a danger to yourself with recommendations to return home and seek the help of a psychiatrist.”
Gavin wanted to recall his words as soon as they left his mouth. He could tell when she’d finished processing. Her mouth tightened, nostrils flared, and eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what?”
He was furious that her father hadn’t told her. “You heard right. You’re being discharged under Other Designated Physical and Mental Conditions.”
For a moment she didn’t speak. Move. Breathe. “What’s the condition?”
“Basically, they think you need a break. Time for your mind to heal.”
She scoffed. “They think I’m crazy?” She paused. “They’re discharging me because they think I’m suicidal, don’t they?”
“You know ODPMC can apply to a multitude of things. It’s a catchall, but . . . yeah. That word was mentioned.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Fingers knotted the blanket over her legs. “Why? How would they come to that conclusion? I’ve been unconscious!”
“The nurse witnessed your nightmares, as did your father. They’ve had to sedate you several times since your arrival to keep you from tearing out your stitches and . . .”
“And?”
“And, you may have muttered some things that could have been interpreted as a wish to die.”
Her mouth opened. Then shut. “I don’t remember any of that, but I certainly don’t have any wish to die. And taking what I said while I was unconscious as fact isn’t even ethical, is it?” She pressed fingers to her eyes. “What exactly is the official diagnosis?”
“PTSD and possible desire to self-harm.”
“Unbelievable.” She dropped her hand and lasered him with a hard look. “How do you know all of this anyway? I thought my medical information would still be protected even here.”
“The general told me. He didn’t share how he got it and I didn’t ask.”
“I see.” She smirked. “So he left you to do the dirty job of filling me in.” A scoff escaped her and she looked away. However, he thought he might have seen a sheen of tears in her eyes. “He finally found a way,” she whispered. “Writing me out of his will couldn’t get me to stay out of the Army, so he’s resorted to this.”