"Sir, Ms. Trisha is outside. She said she wants to talk to you," Christine informed me when I answered the phone.

I put down the cell phone I had been staring at. It was a photo of Fem and I with our tongues out. She insisted on taking it after we failed in attempting to bake some cookies. Flour was all over our faces while we posed for a shot. I never knew it would be our last memory together. After that stint in the airbase, she disappeared like a bubble without even a single trace. It's been two weeks and I can't reach her. No calls and no texts....