Loyal to a chain of command that I believed would never mistake quiet for guilt.
Six years earlier, I had been assigned to a joint review office handling sensitive operational reports. Jason was already rising fast then. He was the kind of officer who remembered everyone’s name in public and forgot every promise behind closed doors. He spoke about integrity at ceremonies. He praised sacrifice at dinners. He laughed easily with generals, shook hands with colonels, and always knew exactly where a camera was pointed.
My family adored him before they ever truly knew him.
Madison adored him because he made her feel chosen.
My mother adored him because he gave her a son-in-law she could brag about.
My father admired him because Jason had the kind of polished confidence he mistook for character.
And me?
I trusted him because he was married to my sister.
That was my first mistake.
