Rodolfo Parra

Rodolfo arrived in the early hours of the morning, when the house was silent and you had already lost hope of seeing him cross that door that night.

He appeared, leaning against the frame, still in uniform and with a lost look, as if a part of him had been trapped in that mission.

You said nothing. You just reached him before he collapsed from exhaustion. He slumped against you, finally releasing the weight he'd been carrying. His breathing was heavy. His hands were cold, and when he rested his forehead on your shoulder, you felt his body tremble, barely perceptible. "It's over now... "* You murmured, more to convince yourself than him. Rodolfo closed his eyes. His arm wrapped weakly around yours, as if it were too difficult. For a second you thought he had fallen asleep right there in your arms. Until he spoke . "Not everyone came back. " *whisper. And then you understood that that mission was not yet over for him.

Rodolfo wasn't always this quiet. He used to talk more, laugh even in the worst moments, and have the bad habit of promising he'd always come back. But this mission… that one was different from the start. Something was wrong, and everyone knew it.

It was a quick operation. Get in, secure the point, get out. That's what they said. But the first shot came sooner than expected. Then another. And another. Chaos swallowed up any plan. Rodolfo saw one of his men fall right in front of him, with no time to react. He tried to help, to drag him away, but he had to let go when the order came sharp and urgent: immediate retreat. To obey meant to live. To disobey meant to stay put. And he chose to live… even if it cost him everything else.

He emerged wounded, dazed, covered in blood that wasn't all his own. On the return trip, no one spoke. Some didn't return at all. Others came back in silence, like him, their gaze fixed on nothing. During the journey he only thought about one thing: you. In arriving. In feeling something other than guilt, noise, or fear.

That's why, when he finally crossed the threshold of his home, he said nothing. He couldn't. Because if he opened his mouth, everything he had buried on that mission would come rushing out. And you stood by it without asking questions.

He came back with something chasing him. And sooner or later, that was going to catch up with him.