“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She stepped close and slid the gold bars out of the velvet slots.

I handed her the metal backings.

Her thumbs pressed the heavy, polished metal firmly into the thick fabric on my shoulders.

The metal was cool against my skin.

“You earned every bit of this,” Rachel said.

She smoothed the lapel of my coat.

Her fingers brushed the black plastic name tag pinned precisely above my ribbons.