About me being difficult.
It wasn’t.
This was evidence.
And I knew where evidence belonged.
I packed the laptop and went upstairs.
Before reaching the top, I smelled barbecue.
Then came laughter and clinking glasses.
I opened the door.
They were hosting a party in my backyard.
String lights.
Folding tables.
A full barbecue spread.
Officers everywhere.
Captains.
A major I recognized.
Even a lieutenant colonel near the cooler.
I hadn’t been home twelve hours, and somehow I was the guest.
Evelyn moved through the crowd effortlessly, touching shoulders, smiling warmly, laughing at exactly the right moments.
Perfect.
Always perfect.
“Harper,” she called loudly enough to turn heads.
Performance time.
I walked forward calmly.
Every person who looked at me seemed to perform the same quick assessment.
Posture.
Expression.
Condition.
They were trying to match me to whatever version of me they had already heard about.
Evelyn gave me a quick hug.
Too quick to mean anything.
“We’re so proud of you,” she said just loud enough for the nearby group to hear.
I didn’t hug her back.
“Didn’t know I was getting a welcome party,” I said.
Her smile tightened.
“Oh, it’s just a small thing. You know how your father likes to keep connection strong.”
Translation: this wasn’t for me.
Across the yard, Vance stood near the grill, laughing too loudly and networking like his career depended on it.
Beside him stood Chloe.
New dress.
Perfect hair.
Perfect makeup.
And an expensive designer watch on her wrist.
I looked at it half a second longer than necessary.
She noticed.
Her smile widened, and she lifted her wrist while adjusting her hair to make sure I saw it.
Message received.
I walked past her.
“Captain Harper.”
I turned.
Major Collins.
I had met him once during a logistics briefing.
