Just as they concluded and released everyone, the phone in the pocket of his uniform vibrated against his leg. No one outside of this room would call him on this phone. He never took it into the field with him, and no family in the States had the number. The last time it rang, Cynthia had called from the Katangela state dinner.

Stepping into the hallway, he glanced at the screen. The 202 area code made his heart skip a beat.

“Norton,” he said.

“I wondered if this number would even work now,” Cynthia said.

He hadn’t heard her voice since the press conference. He couldn’t stop the grin that came from deep inside him. “It’s amazing the technology we have these days. The first time I deployed, we relied mostly on emails.” He stepped outside and into the alley between two buildings. The sun beat down on his head. He put his cap on and found some shade. “What time is it there?”

“Three a.m.”

Her voice sounded husky. “What has you calling Djibouti at three in the morning, Doctor Myers?”

She paused, then said, “I quit my job yesterday. So now I’m homeless and jobless.”

“Homeless?”

“Well, technically, I’m staying with my parents.”

“Wow. Vice presidential residence. Fancy schmancy homeless shelter.” He looked up at the sky. A puffy white cloud hung in the air against the perfect blue background. “Why did you quit your job?”

She sighed. “A supermodel asked me to schedule an induction weeks before her due date so she could get her body back before the Milan fashion week. I just stood there, thinking about my patients in Katangela and how desperate they were to have healthy babies who survived the first two years. So I quit.” After a long pause, when he thought they’d lost the connection, she said, “I’m out of place here.”

He understood what she meant. He had a hard time reentering society after deployments. The military had a system in place, the chaplaincy had programs that helped, counselors were readily available, and training about integration happened. But her father had ripped her away unwillingly, she’d had to face reporters hours later, and then she was expected to just get back to work.

“What will you do about it?”

“I don’t know. My choices are kind of limited right now.”

He barked out a laugh. “Really? I understand not getting to come back to Africa. But you have a big, wide country you’re a part of. It isn’t all Maryland high society, Doc. You feel like you need to keep serving? Then find a way to serve. Need doesn’t begin and end in Katangela.”

After a few heartbeats she said, “I knew if I called you, you’d kick me in the behind.”