He stood halfway, then sat back down like rebellion was safer if done lazily.
“Okay, this is funny,” Mason said. “Did you two plan this?”
I leaned back.
“No.”
Maddox’s throat moved.
“I need to make a call.”
“No,” I said.
He froze.
One word.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just enough authority to stop a staff sergeant in a room full of Marines.
That was when Mason finally saw it.
Not the truth.
Not yet.
But the shape of it.
He looked at Maddox’s hands.
Then mine.
Then the watch on my wrist.
Then the field jacket.
For the first time all night, my little brother looked uncertain.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
But then he opened his mouth.
And ruined it.
“You’re telling me my sister is some kind of legend?” he said. “Harper? The one who couldn’t even make it through Dad’s funeral speech without walking out?”
