Downstairs, Wendell was describing how he’d once saved an entire platoon by overruling a general.

An unlikely claim even before you considered the absence of any dates, names, or verifiable units.

“And that’s leadership,” he finished.

“Something Josephine would never understand.”

I came through the archway carrying no plate and no apology.

The youngest of his guests, a staff sergeant named Mateo Alvarez, saw me first.

His face registered recognition from a formal ceremony earlier that year.

Instinctively he rose from the sofa.