I stopped. I took the envelope. The handwriting was jagged, frantic, and deeply familiar.

Elena. Please. I am begging you. The lawyers took everything. Chloe took a plea deal and is blaming me for the fraud. I have nothing. I am an old man.

You are a General now. You have power. You owe me. You are my daughter. Get me out of here.

I stared at the words bleeding through the cheap paper.

For ten years, a small wounded child inside me had kept the door slightly ajar. I’d kept hope alive that one day, if I achieved enough, if I climbed high enough, my father would look at me with pride.

I had wanted his validation.