People imagine rage erases every other emotion. It doesn’t. I felt grief as fresh as the day we buried him. I felt anger. But I also felt relief. For six years I’d stared at a puzzle with missing pieces, and now the picture finally made sense.

My father hadn’t simply left us. He had been trying to protect something — and without telling my mother or me, he had preserved the evidence for whoever eventually continued the fight.

I looked down at the recorder. Then I made the decision that changed everything. It was time to stop investigating only from the shadows.

Chapter 8 — Soldier Girl

For now, I kept my rank to myself. At first it wasn’t even a strategy. I wanted to see the town exactly as my mother saw it — without the shield of a uniform, without anyone changing their behavior because someone important was watching.

The next morning I walked into the diner in faded jeans and an old university sweatshirt, my hair tied back, nothing about me suggesting I commanded an Army Ranger battalion.

I slid into the corner booth nearest the register. Then I waited. And I watched.