Jason’s ceremony.
That was how all of them referred to it.
Not a command transfer.
Not an official military transition.
Just Jason’s important day.
Even my father barely looked at me when I arrived wearing my Navy dress uniform.
“Was all of that actually necessary?” he asked, glancing at my medals.
“Yes,” I said plainly.
He shook his head. “You always have to draw attention.”
No.
I was simply done making myself smaller so everyone else could remain comfortable.
Done being treated like the unstable daughter while Madison stood there as the perfect wife beside a man no one truly understood.
Madison looked down at my ribbons with clear annoyance.
“You know,” she said quietly, “putting on medals doesn’t make you important.”
“It makes me qualified.”
Her face tightened immediately.
Before she could respond, the master of ceremonies stepped up to the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for the arrival of the official party.”
