Everything Has Changed (Completed)

now - chapter thirty-four

all I know is a new found grace
all my days I'll know your face

I stared at my mom for what felt like hours, days, months, years.

Much like hers had, my mouth flopped open, only to close again seconds later. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I processed what she had told me.

"They... they found him? Dad?" I asked. I was numb.

My mother's face broke into a small smile. "They found him, and he's alive."

"But–" I was at a loss for words. For years, my mother had always told me to shut up and quit talking, but now I couldn't manage to find what I wanted to say.

"How?" I finally managed to choke out.

"Him and about a dozen of his team members, they were found in a small village in Pakistan. When their base had been threatened and destroyed, the group of them had managed to escape. They were almost caught by the Taliban, but people in the village took them in and hid them. They cared for them, fed them, and kept them healthy until it was safe for them to leave. They were found a few days ago, but they had to­–"

I didn't even let my mother finished before I launched myself into her arms. Burying my face in her shoulder, I let out a loud sob as my bod seemed to collapse.

My mother wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, and I could tell that she was crying too.

For years, we had suffered under the thought of the unknown. Whether he was alive, whether he was dead, where we was–we hadn't known anything. And now, to hear this–

I couldn't believe it.

We must have sat there for an hour, wrapped up in each other's embracing, basking in the comfort of each other.

Slowly, when my eyes had run dry and my throat was sore from crying, I pulled away from my mother's arms.

"When­–" I cleared my throat. "When can we see him?"

My mother looked at me and smiled sadly. "Well, it still wasn't easy for them to get out. They had been a bit beat up when the got out of the country, and they're all currently getting treated in New York. However, we can speak to him on the phone in a few days."

Just the thought of hearing my father's voice for the first time in four years brought a whole new set of tears to my eyes, and for the second time that day, I broke down into tears.

Finally.

* * *

The next morning was hell.

My eyes were dry and still red, and my hair was even more of a mess than usual. It had been impossible to fall asleep the night before, the anticipation of hearing my dad again at the front of my mind the whole time.