Berting had been gone from their village for five years. He was a soldier. Everyone expected that when he came home, he would have many stories of heroism, plenty of money, and a chest full of medals.
But when Berting stepped down from the tricycle, he looked different.
Thin. Hollow-eyed. And most noticeable of all — his arms and neck were covered in scars. There was a large gash on his face that looked like it had been slashed by a blade.
No medals. No new uniform. Just an old duffel bag in his hand.

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