He used formal, direct military phrasing, keeping his quiet authority aimed entirely at the digital map in front of him.

His eyes never shifted to me.

“No, sir,” I answered.

Any official record of trouble at home could set off a mandatory command review.

A command review meant command interference, sessions with base chaplains and forced administrative delays.

I had to control the flow of information before the military bureaucracy decided what to do about my household.

“You’ve been twisting that ring for two solid minutes,” Vance said.

I stopped my right hand and laid it flat on the desk.