She stands next to the door: arms folded, eyes flashing with anger to mask the hurt and disappointment, shoulder leaning into the wall.
He looks right back at her: nostrils flared with defiance, overnight bag hanging from his back, fresh war tattoos adorning his face.
Finally, after a long moment, she speaks. “You did what?!”
“The war has heated up, and you know it. The enemy’s not giving up easily. I can’t stand by, knowing I could have helped.”
“But you’re one man…”
“That’s right. One man joining with thousands of others. The eggers need crew, and I’m headed out there… I’d hoped you’d understand.”
She nudges the door open with a toe and nods her head out into the darkened corridor beyond. “Get out.”
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