Four Text Messages Sent on a Tuesday Morning Changed How Sarah Mitchell Saw Her Family
Derek stopped tapping his foot and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“It’s just an informal introduction, Sarah.
Don’t be so rigid.”
“The federal acquisition rules are explicit,” I said, keeping my voice level.
“I can’t use my rank or position to help a family member’s private business.”
The warmth vanished from my mother’s face at once, and her shoulders locked into the cold, sharp posture I had known for twenty years.
“We’re asking for one phone call,” she said.