Chapter 1

Chloe Davis stared across the desk at Director Thompson, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The sterile silence of his office felt heavy, pressing down on her.

"I want to volunteer for the undercover operation," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Thompson leaned back in his leather chair, his gaze sharp and analytical. He had known her for years, had seen her through her grief over Daniel, had even attended her wedding to Ethan.

"Chloe, this isn't a transfer to another base. This is a complete erasure. Your life, your identity, everything you are will be gone. The target is Marcus Thorne. He's not just a criminal, he's a monster. He's broken agents tougher than you."

"I'm aware of the risks," she replied.

He sighed, tapping a pen on his blotter. "Is this about Ethan?"

The question hung in the air. Of course, it was about Ethan. Everything was about Ethan. She had dedicated the last five years of her life to him. After his brother, her boyfriend Daniel, died in a mission gone wrong, Ethan had come back a wreck, a decorated special forces operative shattered by PTSD. She, a trauma therapist, had made it her mission to piece him back together.

She remembered the late nights, talking him down from flashbacks, the patience it took to rebuild his trust in the world. Their shared grief over Daniel had forged a bond, a deep, dependent connection that she had mistaken for love. They got married. His family had objected, her friends had warned her, but she saw a broken hero she was uniquely qualified to save.

Then Sarah Jenkins had appeared.

Sarah looked so much like Ethan' s first love, a woman who had died tragically years before Daniel. And just like that, the foundation of Chloe' s world cracked. Ethan' s progress evaporated. His dependency shifted. His violent episodes returned, worse than ever.

"It's not about him," she lied, the words tasting like ash. "I need a change. I can do this job, Director. You know my skills."

"Your skills are in healing, Chloe, not in deception and violence."

"Sometimes they're the same thing," she said, her voice turning cold. "I'm done healing him. Let someone else try."

The intercom on Thompson's desk buzzed. His assistant's voice was tight with urgency. "Sir, we have a situation at the training facility. It's Captain Miller. He's having a severe episode."

Thompson' s eyes met hers. A silent, shared understanding passed between them.

Chloe stood up. "I'll go."

She didn't hesitate. It was a reflex, a deeply ingrained responsibility she couldn't just switch off. As she drove to the facility, her mind was a storm of memories. The way Ethan used to look at her, his eyes full of a desperate gratitude that felt like adoration. The promises he' d made. The life they were supposed to build.

She arrived to chaos. Soldiers were keeping their distance from the center of the mess hall, where Ethan stood, his body rigid, his eyes wild and unfocused. He had overturned a table, and shattered plates littered the floor.

"Get away from me!" he roared, his voice raw. He was seeing ghosts.

"Ethan," she said, her voice calm and even, the therapist taking over. "It's Chloe. You're safe. You're at the base."

He whipped his head around, his eyes locking onto her. For a second, a flicker of recognition. Then, it vanished, replaced by a snarl.

"You!" he spat, pointing a trembling finger at her. "You're one of them!"

He lunged. She sidestepped, her training kicking in, but he was too fast, too strong. He grabbed her arm, his grip like a vise.

"Ethan, stop! It's me!" she yelled, trying to break through the fog of his trauma.

He shoved her hard, sending her stumbling back against a wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her. He advanced on her, his face a mask of fury.

"I'll kill you," he whispered, his hands reaching for her throat.

Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the tension. "Ethan, darling, it's okay."

Sarah Jenkins stepped into the circle of chaos. She moved with a gentle grace, her expression one of pure, loving concern. She placed a hand on his arm.

"It's just a bad dream," she murmured. "I'm here."

The transformation was instantaneous. The tension drained from Ethan' s body. The wildness in his eyes softened. He looked down at Sarah, his breathing ragged.

"Sarah?" he mumbled, confused.

"I'm here," she repeated, stroking his cheek. He leaned into her touch like a starving man finding food. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder, his body shaking with sobs.

He didn't even glance at Chloe.

He pulled back after a moment, his composure returning. He looked at Chloe, not with guilt, but with annoyance.

"Why do you always set me off?" he demanded. "Sarah knows how to handle me. She's so calm. You're always so clinical."

The words hit her harder than his shove had. He saw her years of dedicated therapy, her unwavering support, as "clinical." He saw Sarah' s gentle manipulation as a cure.

Chloe felt a profound coldness spread through her. It wasn't just heartbreak. It was the chilling realization that she was obsolete. She had been replaced.

She turned without a word and walked away, leaving him in Sarah's comforting embrace. The soldiers parted for her, their eyes filled with pity. She didn't want their pity.

Back in her small, sterile apartment on the base, she looked at the photo on her nightstand. It was of her and Daniel, smiling, on a beach. That was the man she had loved. Ethan was just his shadow, a ghost she had tried to bring back to life.

She had failed.

She picked up her phone and dialed Director Thompson's private line.

"I'm in," she said, her voice hollow. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow," he said, his voice grim. "Get your affairs in order. Chloe Davis ceases to exist at 0800 hours."

She hung up, a sense of finality washing over her. She was a ghost already. Tomorrow, it would just be official.