The cold, metallic sensation was all too familiar. Taji looked down at his own hand, the chill seeping into his skin like it had ten years ago, a phantom echo beneath the surface. Under the dim operating room lights, the doctor’s practiced hands worked, peeling back the layers of forgotten history. Like opening a dusty shutter, memories he’d tried to bury flooded back. July 10th, 2026, Friday. In the thick, humid Georgia summer air, Taji was finally bringing an end to a decade-long battle with a bullet fragment.

“We’re almost there,” the doctor’s low, steady voice drifted to Taji. He bit his lip. “Almost” amplified the lingering unease. He closed his eyes. New Year’s Eve, 2017. A younger Taji and Bryan. A worn revolver. The sudden, deafening roar. It all flashed through his mind.

“Bryan…” The name slipped out, surprising even himself. Ten years ago, he’d tried to suppress the complicated tangle of emotions over Bryan’s abandonment. Anger, betrayal, and yet, an enduring friendship. It all churned into a tempest in his heart.