He took a black pen out of his breast pocket and laid it on top of the paper.

“Sign on the bottom line, Leah.”

“No,” I told him.

Richard stepped forward, and his shadow fell across the legal paper on the workbench.

“You’ve got a major promotion board in early November,” Richard said.

“My military record is clean,” I said.

Richard leaned his heavy shoulder against the open garage doorway, blocking out the twilight from the backyard.

“A promotion board looks at personal character and financial standing,” Richard said.