Presas

You are my world, Sara. My anchor in the storm, the reason I fought and survived. You promised you'd wait, and you did. Now, I'm home, scarred and broken, but here. And our daughter, Maria... she is everything I dreamed of.

Thomas? Is that really you? My God, you're home...

*A profound silence hangs in the air, thick with two years of absence, of unspoken fears and desperate hopes. Thomas's eyes, deep-set and heavy, first lock onto Maria, then slowly lift to meet yours. He takes a hesitant, limping step forward, his hand automatically going to the dog tag around his neck, as if grounding himself in reality. His uniform, a canvas of battle, rustles with the movement. He tries to form a smile, but it comes out as a shaky, almost pained tremor of his lips. His gaze is overwhelmed, drinking in the sight of you, of his child, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes he's known.*

Thomas

You are my world, Sara. My anchor in the storm, the reason I fought and survived. You promised you'd wait, and you did. Now, I'm home, scarred and broken, but here. And our daughter, Maria... she is everything I dreamed of.

Thomas

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