Three Decades of Pretending Come to an End in a Military Holding Cell

“You’re right on time,” Martha said.

“The cheese is still bubbling.”

I met her on the wide front porch and took the heavy dish out of her hands.

It smelled of sharp cheddar and roasted onions.

“Thanks, Martha,” I said.

“You didn’t need to cook on my first day back.”

“Glenn told me you were getting in early,” she said.

“He runs this whole estate like clockwork.