"Your transfer letter." Jung Kyunghoo sighs, handing my mom's a brown envelope. "I really wish you can stay longer but I guess baby needs her mom to work behind the desk from now on."

"I'm sorry, Kyunghoo." Leaning back on the rocking chair, my mom puts the envelope on top of her protruding belly and smiles wanly at the sergeant. "I'll be back putting bullets in your tomatoes in a few months though."

"When is your due date again?"

"Somewhere around Christmas."

"Sweet. I hope Sooyoung is already here by then."

"You haven't received any more news, have you?"

"The last telegram was from two months ago. If it's up to me I'd be running up that mountains searching for her."

"We're soldiers of limitation at the moment." My mom rubs her belly, glancing at Sergeant Jung's prosthetic leg. "We can only stay and pray."

"Something is wrong, YoonA. The president never actually declares war but General Hwang keeps on sending troops to the borders."

"It bugs me so much too. The initial attack was said to have no justifiable reason but why would the north ambush our squad first? It's not like they will win anything from this. If what I saw on the border is any indication. Their weaponry is too inferior."

"See? There must be something going on though. If another month comes without news, I'll haul this titanium leg to demand an explanation from the General himself."

"Is it hurt? Walking in that?"

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Come on, I've been living with this for years." Kyunghoo kicks his steel leg with his good one. "Nothing can offend me anymore. Why the sudden curiosity though?"

"I happen to know someone who just lost both his legs."

"Man. That must be hard to overcome. At least I've got one good leg for support. Has this guy learned to use prosthetic yet?"

"He's walking on those already. Not too steady though." My mom recalls the day she let Changwook entered her apartment a week ago. That day, she had seen his unsteady gait and now she feels so guilty for ignoring it.

"I still remember the struggle like it was yesterday. If wasn't for Sooyoung I wouldn't have made it. It took me months to accept the fact that I've lost a limb then it takes me almost a year to learn using this metal foot properly. Your friend seems to progress fast and nicely."

The look on Changwook's face that day haunts my mom immediately. Now that my mom thinks of it, she can remember the pain and embarrassment in his eyes. He must have had it hard and she feels terrible for her cold reception.

"Not many people understand this but the depression and trauma is the hardest thing to deal with. It was almost too hard to bear I tried to commit suicide."

"You did?" My mom's guilt turns into fear now.

"PTSD is a real monster, YoonA. Can you even imagine? In a blink of an eye, you turn from a fully functional soldier to a handicap. I felt like trash most of those days. Sooyoung worked so hard to dig me out of that damned black hole."

Fidgeting with her hands, my mom starts to weight decisions. Changwook never comes to see my mom again after that day and she has been wondering about his well-being since then.  She doesn't want him to get hurt. Knowing that there's a possibility of him hurting himself scares my mom so much.

"Kyunghoo, I need to go. See you later." My mom suddenly stands up.

"Right now? I thought you're going to spend your last day here driving the privates mad."

"Nah. Can I borrow one of them to drive me somewhere though?"

"Absolutely."

"And your red truck too?"

"Yes. Just don't choose Jungkook as your driver."

"We've been friends for years now." The smile on my mom's face shows so much tease when she pats the sergeant's shoulder. "I know you want only the best driver for your best truck."

Grinning, Kyunghoo handing my mom a set of keys that have 'LoveSoo' written on the keychain.

"One more thing." My mom takes the keys. "If I give you a soldier name. Can you break into the database and find me his current address?"

Kyunghoo raises his eyebrows. "Now you make me curious."

"Ji Changwook." Looking down at her belly, my mom sighs deeply. "I need to know where Ji Changwook is."

"Are you sure this is the address?"

"The exact house number, ma'am." Private Jimin answers from behind the steering wheels.

"Alright. Can you wait?"

"Not in this narrow alley, ma'am. I will have to drive back to the main road and wait there. Just call me, I'll pick you up here in a flash."

"Thank you, Jimin." My mom gets out of the car. This is not how she imagined Changwook's home will be. This shabby area doesn't fit the general's son in law at all.

"Looking for Wookie?" An old woman steps out of the small house with three little boys in tow.

"Wookie?"

"Changwook. You're from the military, right?"

"Yes. I'm looking for Changwook."

"He's not here."

"Of course." My mom sighs. "He lives with her wife, right? Can you please give me his current address?"

"Wife? You meant Stephany?" The woman's expression turns somber. "He's not living with her. Not anymore. If you want to find him you have to go to the rehabilitation center. He practically lives there now."

"Rehabilitation center?"

"Yeah. He's busy training to get his body function back. I have the address here." The old woman takes out a classic flip phone from her sweater pocket. One of the boys immediately tries to grab the device. "Later, Daehannie. We need to show this lady where Uncle Wookie is."

"Uncle Wookie." The other little boy grins at my mom. "Uncle Wookie has robot legs now. Like Transformer."

"Tsk. These boys. They know nothing about their uncle's pain." The woman shows my mom the address on the phone screen. "Why are you looking for my son? Did General Hwang order you to?"

"No. Ma'am. We're friends."

Eyes darting to my mom's belly, the woman sighs. "Good. He needs a lot of friends right now. Are you going to see him now?"

"Yes.Ma'am."

"Wait a minute." The old woman gets back into the house and comes back with a small rattan basket. "There is food in here. You can have some too. Tell him to eat well, alright?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Here take this. Tell him not to train so hard too. He worries about too much stuff. He needs to learn to slow down."

My mom accepts the worn-out basket. Her heart breaks a little more.

The rehabilitation center is a huge building with three small swimming pool