Jason leaned toward her.
“General, I strongly object to this being addressed in this setting.”
General Prescott looked at him.
“Your objection is noted.”
Four words.
Calm.
Professional.
Final.
A ripple passed through the officers behind him.
I saw one colonel lower his gaze. Another stared directly at Jason, no longer smiling. The young lieutenant near the stairs stood even straighter.
Jason had built his life on rooms where he controlled the tone.
This was not one of those rooms.
Madison pushed past my mother and stepped into the aisle.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, her voice trembling. “Rachel has been obsessed with this for years.”
The words landed exactly as they always had at family dinners.
Rachel is emotional.
Rachel cannot let things go.
Rachel wants attention.
But this time, no one rushed to agree.
No one comforted her.
No one looked at me with pity.
A senior sergeant near the front turned and said, politely but firmly, “Ma’am, please remain seated.”
