“Officer Candidate Morgan,” General Thomas said.

He projected his voice so loudly it bounced off the empty back walls.

“Good morning, General,” I said.

“The seating chart is final,” he said.

“Your mother has the center seat in the front row of honor.”

The heavy side door swung open before I could answer.

Rachel walked in carrying a small leather portfolio.

She wore a bright yellow dress and comfortable flat shoes.