Major Paige Donnelly. My executive officer.

Paige stood too close to my husband, a massive diamond ring on her left hand. But it wasn’t the ring that made my blood run cold. It was the thick legal clipboard in her grip.

“You look terrible, Tessa,” Grant said, stepping into the room like he owned it.

I pulled Evelyn closer, my surgical incision burning. “Get out of my room.”

Paige stepped forward, her voice dripping with cloying sympathy. “Colonel, we’re not here to argue. We’re here to transfer you. Given your erratic mental state, the complications of your birth, and your refusal to communicate, Grant has enacted the Medical Power of Attorney.”

My heart hammered. The insurance paperwork. Weeks ago, when I was exhausted and sick, Grant had rushed me through a stack of documents for Evelyn’s future coverage.