Operation: Threads of Connection

For your own good

I choked back a sob, my breath shaky.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye..." I whispered, staring at the golden ring still clenched in my hand. I slipped it on my finger, it was a perfect fit, like he'd had made it just for me.

"Anya, where are you?" a voice shouted, I peeked over the wall and noticed papa and mama walking around the garden. Mama looked more like she was waddling, as her tummy pressed against her red sweater. The twins seemed to be getting bigger everyday.

"Anya, honey please come out," Mama shouted as she continued looking around the garden. Sighing I wiped the tears off my face and made my way towards them.

"I'm right here," I said softly. They both turned around and faced me, I could see the relief on mamas face as she walked towards me, wrapping her arms around me. She felt so warm compared to the cold air swirling around us.

"Sweetheart, we were so worried," she murmured, her voice laced with concern. I could feel her gentle grip, but it didn't erase the heaviness in my heart.

"What's wrong, Anya? You look like you've seen a ghost," Papa said, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

I shook my head, the weight of my emotions too much to articulate. Instead, I glanced down at the ring on my finger, its glimmer almost mocking me. "It's just... I didn't know," I finally managed, Mama pulled back slightly, her gaze shifting from my tear-streaked face to the ring on my finger. She looked confused for a moment, and then her eyes softened with understanding. Papa followed her gaze and frowned, a mix of confusion and concern in his expression.

"What do you mean, Anya? What didn't you know?" Mama asked gently, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

I swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in my throat. "About Damian. About us... about everything," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt so small, so lost.

Mama and Papa exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them. It was like they already knew, like they had been keeping this secret from me too. A fresh wave of hurt washed over me. How could they not tell me? How could everyone keep this from me?

"you both knew as well?" they both nodded slowly, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, it felt like I was truly alone.

"Anya, we did it for your own good... Dr. Arthur advised us that it could be dangerous to remind you of such heavy memories, it's nobody's fault honey, we just figured that with time you would remember," Papa said softly almost as if he was asking for forgiveness. But I couldn't forgive, I can't just pretend that everyone kept something this huge from me!

"You... you are all so selfish. He was there by my side everyday and none of you said anything! and now that I know about this, I can't even say anything to him because he's gone!" I cried out, new tears streaming down my face.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Papa asked. I shook my head remembering the ominous letter Damian's father had left behind.

"Damian's father forced him to join the military, no one has seen him in days," I reply. Papa's eyes widened as he began taking out his phone. Mama's arms tightened around me as Papa's face grew tense, his fingers moving swiftly across his phone screen. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. I could feel Mama's heart racing in her chest, her breath shallow as if she was holding something back.

"Mama held me closer, stroking my hair gently. "We'll find him, sweetheart," she whispered, but her words felt hollow, like she was trying to reassure herself more than me.

I pulled away, my hands trembling. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" I repeated, the question burning in my throat. "All of you—Alina, Becky, Bash—why did you let me go on without knowing? Do you know how much I've lost?" My voice cracked as I stared at them, my mind swirling with anger, confusion, and heartbreak.

"We thought it was for the best," Mama began, her voice pleading. "After the accident, you lost more than just your memories of Damian. We didn't want to hurt you again by pushing those memories back too soon. Dr. Arthur warned us that it could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I spat out the word. "What's dangerous is having my memories stolen from me! What's dangerous is not being able to say goodbye before he was taken away!" The ring on my finger suddenly felt heavy, like it carried the weight of every lost moment between us.

Papa, still on the phone, started pacing. "Yes, this is urgent. We need to know where Damian Desmond was deployed," he demanded into the phone, his tone sharp. "I don't care about protocol! Just get me the information."

I turned back to Mama. "Did you even want me to remember? Or was it easier for everyone if I just stayed in the dark?" I asked, my voice quieter now but no less pained.

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head. "No, Anya, of course we wanted you to remember. But we were scared. You were so fragile after everything, we didn't want to cause more harm. Damian—he agreed, too. He said he'd wait until you remembered on your own."

I froze. Damian had known? He'd been part of this decision? My heart ached even more. He had loved me, and yet he'd kept this secret, too.

Before I could say anything, Papa's voice cut through the air. "What do you mean, 'classified'?" His face turned pale, and my stomach lurched at his words. "Where is he?" Papa demanded.

A cold dread settled over me. Damian wasn't just sent to the military—something much worse was happening. Something they didn't want us to know.