It had paid for Derek’s fraternity dues, his luxury condo lease, and his credit card balances before he ever set foot in a business school classroom.

They hadn’t missed my commissioning because of travel costs or sudden scheduling conflicts.

They had missed it because they valued his failures more than my service.

I picked up the blue carbon receipt and folded it once down the middle.

I folded it a second time into a narrow strip, making the edges sharp and clean.

I reached over to my dress uniform hanging on the wardrobe door, opened the front flap, and slid the bank receipt deep into the inside breast pocket.

General Vance set down his wire-rimmed glasses and polished them with a square of silk as I walked into the administration building at four o’clock.