The Last Letter
The envelope sat on the kitchen counter, daring her to open it. Piper stared at it for what felt like hours, the silence of the house pressing down on her like a weight.
Jason's letters had always been a lifeline—a thread connecting her to him, no matter the distance. But something about this one felt different.
She ran her finger along the edge of the paper, finally sliding her nail under the seal. The letter unfolded easily in her hands, the familiar scrawl of Jason’s handwriting greeting her. It was messy, hurried, but undeniably his.
"Dear Pipes,
I’m safe for now, though things here are rough. The mission has taken us to a place where it’s hard to see the horizon—it’s all dust and heat. Still, I think of you and the life we were building every moment. It keeps me going."
Her eyes moved across the page, but her heart caught on the blacked-out sections. Words that had been stripped away, leaving behind only frustration and unease. She hated the gaps—the things Jason had wanted to say but couldn’t.
"I can’t wait to come home. To hold you. To finally tell you in person how much I—"
The line stopped abruptly, another thick black bar obscuring the words. Piper’s fingers tightened on the paper.
The final lines hit like a punch to the chest:
"Whatever happens, Pipes, I need you to know that you are my heart. I love you more than anything in this world. Keep living for us—for the life we dreamed of. And please, never doubt that I’ll do everything I can to come home to you.
All my love,
Jason"
Her breath hitched as she pressed the letter to her chest. Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. His words were raw, filled with hope and love, but there was something haunting in them. A sense of finality she didn’t want to acknowledge.
The nausea that had been plaguing her for weeks surged unexpectedly, forcing her to run to the bathroom. She barely made it in time, clutching the sink for balance as her stomach heaved. When it was over, she splashed cold water on her face, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror.
“Get it together,” she whispered to herself. But her hand drifted to her stomach, the faintest swell there a constant reminder of the life growing inside her. A life Jason didn’t even know about yet.
The knock at the door shattered the moment. Piper blinked, startled, and quickly wiped at her face. She stood, the letter still clutched in her hand, and opened the door.
Thalia stood there, holding a bag of takeout. Her electric-blue eyes immediately narrowed when she saw Piper’s tear-streaked face. “What happened?”
Piper opened her mouth, but no words came. She handed the letter to Thalia, her hands trembling so badly the paper crinkled.
Thalia took the letter, scanning it quickly. Her face softened, and she let out a slow breath. “He’s okay,” she said, though her voice carried a hint of uncertainty. “See? He says he’s safe.”
Before Piper could respond, another knock came. She frowned. “Did you invite someone else?”
“No,” Thalia replied, already moving toward the door.
The moment Piper saw the man in uniform on her porch, the world seemed to tilt. Her knees felt weak, and her pulse thundered in her ears.
“Ms. McLean?”
Her voice barely came out. “Yes.”
“I’m Captain Boreas. I’m here on behalf of the United States Army.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. She gripped the doorframe, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps.
“I regret to inform you that Jason Grace has been presumed dead during a classified mission in Afghanistan,” the captain continued, his tone steady but grim. “Due to the nature of the operation, details are limited, but his team was ambushed, and we have minimal hope for recovery. We’re deeply sorry for your loss.”
“No,” Piper whispered, shaking her head. Her voice grew louder, desperate. “No. That’s not true. He promised me he’d come back.”
“I’m very sorry,” the captain said, his expression unreadable. He handed her a small envelope. “This was recovered with his belongings.”
Piper couldn’t bring herself to take it, so Thalia stepped forward, her face pale but determined. She grabbed the envelope and shut the door without a word, locking it behind her.
Piper collapsed to the floor, her legs giving out beneath her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The words “presumed dead” echoed in her mind, over and over, until they drowned out everything else.
Thalia knelt beside her, her own hands shaking as she set the envelope on the coffee table. “Pipes,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “We don’t know for sure. They said presumed. That doesn’t mean…”
But her words trailed off.
Piper buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She felt Thalia’s arms wrap around her, holding her tightly.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the weight of the news settling around them like a suffocating fog.
Reyna arrived not long after, her face tight with worry. She immediately dropped to her knees beside Thalia and Piper, pulling them both into her arms. “We’ll get through this,” Reyna murmured, though the crack in her voice betrayed her own grief.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the three women sat together in the dimly lit room. The envelope from Jason’s belongings remained unopened on the table, a silent reminder of the man who had been taken from them.
Piper clutched her stomach instinctively, as if trying to hold onto the last piece of Jason she had. A small life was growing within her—a spark of hope that would carry her through the darkest days.
And somewhere, deep in the recesses of her heart, Piper clung to the faintest glimmer of belief. Jason was too strong, too determined to be gone. He had promised her he’d come back.
And Jason Grace never broke his promises.