I lay motionless in the most advanced sterile ward at the military's central hospital. Tubes and wires covered my body, keeping me alive, while the heart monitor let out its sharp, steady beeps.Sean had been granted special permission to visit me. He wore a prison uniform, and cold steel handcuffs circled his wrists. In just a few days, he had become almost unrecognizable. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes deeply sunken, and stubble covered his face."Janet..."He sat beside my bed and carefully took my cold hand, pressing it against his rough, stubbled cheek. He rubbed it gently over and over, as if that were the only way he could make me feel his presence.Then, he began talking to me."The first time I saw you at the shooting range, you told me my grip on my rifle was all wrong. Later, you secretly modified my Type 92 pistol for me. You adjusted the barrel's balance so perfectly that even the master gunsmiths at the factory could not have done better."That time at the border,
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