Other people’s sacrifices.
Other people’s families.
She had survived long enough to become someone who attended memorials.
That had always felt uncomfortable.
The speaker began again.
“Staff Sergeant Daniel Ruiz…”
Jessica stopped breathing.
Patricia felt her hand tighten.
She looked at Jessica.
Jessica stared ahead.
The speaker read Ruiz’s service history.
His hometown.
His family.
The official language sounded neat.
Orderly.
Nothing about the coffee.
Nothing about the jokes.
Nothing about how he sang badly inside armored vehicles.
Nothing about the night he carried her radio when freezing rain turned the road into glass.
Nothing about his promise to teach his daughter how to fish.
A Gold Star family several rows ahead stood.
Jessica lowered her head.
Patricia whispered, “You knew him.”
Jessica nodded.
The ceremony continued.
Patricia did not ask more.
For once, silence became a gift instead of a secret.
Several minutes later, Chief Warrant Officer Matthew Keene’s name was read.
