The front door was unlocked.

When Ethan turned the brass handle and pushed it open, Linda was already standing in the middle of the foyer mat.

She wore a beige button-up sweater over her floral blouse, her hands clasped tightly in front of her waist instead of crossed over her chest.

Her posture changed the moment she saw my father standing in the doorway.

“General Carter,” Linda said, her voice dropping into an unsettling, formal tone.

“Please, come in out of the cold.”