He had thought he was intimidating someone pretending to be military.
Instead, he had grabbed a field-grade officer serving under one of the most demanding commands in the American military.
Jessica did not enjoy the realization.
She had never wanted it.
That was the point.
She had come to the ceremony because she did not want to be Major Dalton for a few hours.
She wanted to be Jessica.
Patricia’s daughter.
A woman standing beneath the Carolina sun.
A friend remembering people who never came home.
Her patrol cap had stayed beneath her arm because she did not want salutes.
Her collar had remained clean because she did not want questions.
Several names on the memorial program belonged to people she knew personally.
One was Staff Sergeant Daniel Ruiz.
He had carried her radio when their vehicle lost communications during a winter deployment.
He had joked about the coffee being strong enough to dissolve metal.
