He walked to the living room and sat in the armchair he had used every Sunday morning when Emily was growing up. She remembered climbing onto its arm to steal the sports section from him. Now he looked too large for it and too small at the same time.
“Your mother met Linda through a volunteer program for military spouses,” he said. “Caroline was lonely. We moved often, and she tried to make friends wherever we landed. Linda was charming when she wanted to be. Helpful. Organized. She made people feel as though she had all the answers.”
Emily’s throat tightened. “That sounds familiar.”
Dad closed his eyes briefly. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
“There was an incident involving medical paperwork. A young wife on base had complications late in pregnancy. She was new, far from home, and someone mishandled documents that should never have been touched. Decisions were delayed. People blamed the system. Some blamed the doctors. Your mother believed Linda had pressured the woman into signing forms she didn’t understand.”
