Crawford interpreted Patricia’s silence as proof.
“Exactly,” he said.
Patricia glared at him.
“Exactly what?”
“You don’t even know what your daughter is doing.”
Patricia almost laughed.
“You’re right about one thing.”
Crawford frowned.
“What?”
“I don’t know everything she does.”
Jessica closed her eyes for one brief second.
Her mother continued.
“But I know enough to tell you that you’re making a terrible mistake.”
The Marines nearest them became quieter.
Crawford did not.
“You expect me to be intimidated by a mother defending her daughter?”
Patricia’s voice hardened.
“No. I expect you to behave like the uniform you’re wearing.”
That hit harder.
The gray-templed staff sergeant looked down.
Another Marine coughed to hide a reaction.
Crawford flushed.
“Stay out of this.”
Patricia pointed at his hand.
“You brought me into it when you grabbed her.”
Jessica spoke.
“Mom.”
Patricia looked at her.
Jessica gave another small shake of the head.
Patricia stopped again.
Crawford saw it.
He grinned.
“See? She knows better.”
Jessica finally let a little steel enter her voice.
“No, Captain. She knows me.”
The grin vanished.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then the speaker near the memorial wall stopped mid-program.
The microphone went silent.
The sudden absence of amplified sound transformed everything.
Four hundred people became aware of one another at once.
Faces turned.
Heads tilted.
The disturbance was no longer background noise.
It had become the ceremony.
An event coordinator hurried from the platform.
He wore a navy blazer despite the humid North Carolina heat.
“Captain Crawford?”
Crawford straightened.
Still holding Jessica.
“I’m handling a Stolen Valor situation.”
The coordinator blinked.
“During the ceremony?”
“She’s wearing the uniform without proper insignia.”
Jessica said, “He’s been drinking.”
The words cut cleanly across the silence.
Crawford’s face changed.
“You lying—”
“Your breath.”
“That’s coffee.”
“No.”
The staff sergeant nearby looked at Crawford again.
This time the recognition was obvious.
Crawford saw it.
His embarrassment turned into fury.
“You think you can accuse me of drinking on duty?”
Jessica replied, “I already did.”
The coordinator looked between them.
“Captain, maybe you should release her.”
Crawford ignored him.
Jessica could feel his pulse through the pressure of his hand.
Fast.
Too fast.
He had reached the point where retreat felt like humiliation.
That made him dangerous in a different way.
Not tactically.
Socially.
He needed to win.
