“I suppose the military doesn’t teach people basic shame these days.” I felt Gavin’s hand tighten around mine.

I looked into Felicia’s cold, familiar eyes, and I did not raise my voice.

“Move out of my way.” She did not move.

Her gaze traveled over my children again, appraising them, and I watched her decide to make a scene of it, because a scene had always been her weapon and she did not yet understand that it had stopped being one.

“Do you really expect rational people,” she said, “to believe this absurd little parade happened by accident?” “They came to say goodbye to a good man,” I said.