The brass buttons on the dark coat were polished clean.

The service ribbons sat straight across the left breast pocket, stiff and precise in their metal frames.

I folded my work shirt and packed it into the bottom compartment.

I locked my military duffel bag with a quick, firm click and stood tall in my crisp uniform.

Arthur Vance straightened his necktie beside me on the front porch as two catering workers carried silver trays through the open double doors.

“Are you sure you want to do this in front of thirty people, Avery?” he asked.