Laura Brown and Michael Justin Davis Part 1

Due to political turmoil in an Asian country, the government forces and the opposition have plunged the nation into chaos, making life unbearable for its citizens. This country's every move has already become headline news around the world, prompting our TV station to send war correspondents.

Given the generous salary and bonuses, I volunteered to go. This assignment isn't just up for grabs; first, it's extremely dangerous. Even though we're protected by the local United Nations peacekeeping forces, there's always a risk of dying in the conflict. Second, it's a great opportunity to build a career and reputation, and any ambitious journalist would be willing to take the risk.

Thanks to my qualifications and extensive experience, I was the obvious choice. Before leaving, my wife Betty spent a long time trying to dissuade me. She was worried about the dangers, but danger wasn't new to me.

I've always believed in fate—if I'm lucky, I'll survive the worst; if not, even hiding at home could end in disaster. After a recent illness, I've lived more freely. With no children, just my wife Betty, there wasn't much holding me back.

So, I packed my bags and headed to the war-torn nation in Asia. Only upon arriving did I truly understand what war was.

The refugees along the way, the constant sound of gunfire, the ruined cities, and the rescue organizations carrying bodies and the wounded—it all seemed like hell on earth.

After arriving, Betty called me every day to check if I was safe, never missing a day. Her calls were the only warmth I felt in that chaotic country.

During the day, I'd head out with my camera and a partner, dodging gunfire and narrowly escaping death. At night, sleep was impossible with the ongoing sounds of gunfire and explosions, never knowing when a shell might hit our room.

After a few days, we visited a United Nations relief hospital with the peacekeeping troops to interview and film the wounded and civilians, capturing the horrific scenes to raise global awareness and hopefully, to stop the atrocities with the conscience of the world.

Inside the makeshift hospital, which was more like a refugee dorm, the smell of disinfectant, medicine, and the stench of human waste was overwhelming. It was hardly a hospital by any standard, but under the circumstances, it was a sanctuary for those who could be saved.

People with major and minor injuries were gathered in tents, much like a refugee camp. I moved from one ward to another with my camera, capturing the most severe and gruesome injuries. I had seen many horrific scenes before, like car accident fatalities and charred bodies, but the sight of so much blood and suffering still deeply affected me.

When I entered one ward and began filming a patient, I froze in front of her bed. She was Asian, and her face was hauntingly familiar. Although she had changed a lot, I recognized her.

She lay alone on the hospital bed, her body hastily bandaged, waiting for surgery in a long queue. With limited medical facilities and not enough staff for the number of injured, many patients lay waiting for help, and many died before their turn came.

"Laura Brown? Is that you?" I trembled as I slowly approached the injured woman, nearly dropping my camera in shock the moment I saw her. I couldn't be 100% sure it was her; after all, meeting here would be too much of a coincidence.

I set down the camera, walked up to her bedside, and took her hand, gently calling her name. Her forehead and body were covered in wounds, hastily bandaged. She kept her eyes closed, unresponsive, with only faint breathing.

As I called out to her, my mind was flooded with memories:

Laura, my childhood sweetheart.

We grew up together, attending the same schools from elementary through college. She was the good girl, gentle and beautiful, my first love, the first woman to ever occupy my heart. We made our relationship official in high school and continued through college. When our relationship came to light in front of her parents, they invited me over and inquired about my family background, which I disclosed honestly.

Unexpectedly, Laura, so understanding and kind, had parents who were so materialistic and pragmatic. After visiting her home, I barely saw her again.

I tried to contact her repeatedly, but her phone was unreachable. When I visited her house, her mother answered the door and simply said, "She's not home," shutting me out. Later, I learned that her parents had confined her at home, forbidding her from seeing me and even confiscating her phone.

The reason was simple: my family was not well-off at the time, and her parents believed Laura could do better given her looks.

Thus, they firmly opposed our relationship, and a decade of feelings shattered under their interference. That's just how society is today.

Later, I heard that a college mate of ours managed to win over Laura's parents and she ended up marrying him.

This classmate was mixed-race, with a Singaporean father and an American mother. He had studied in the U.S., and his family was quite affluent in Singapore. He had pursued Laura during college, but she had always rejected him because she was with me.

But after Laura and I were forced apart, he swooped in, leveraging his economic status to meet her parents. With his family's wealth, Laura's opportunistic parents were all too eager to comply, and Laura, the ever-obedient daughter, followed her parents' wishes and married him.

Hearing about this had devastated me for a long time, but eventually, time dulled the pain. Later, I heard she resented her parents for losing the love of her life and marrying someone she did not love. Eventually, she followed her husband to his family's home country, Singapore, far from her roots and the mundane world.

And now, unexpectedly, I've encountered her here.