You’re lying, Kesha.
You just can’t stand that I’m leaving.
I blinked, and the memory shattered.
Eight years later, I stood in a command uniform with four children beside me and the most powerful family in his world watching.
“No,” I said. “I became precise.”
Captain Hale opened the second folder.
Inside were copies of Daniel’s sworn statements during the divorce: statements claiming he had no knowledge of any pregnancy, no pending family obligations, no dependents, and no reason to delay transfer. There were affidavits. Digital records. A notarized declaration stating he believed my pregnancy claim was “fabricated for emotional leverage.”
And then there was the line that made Margaret sway.
I, Colonel Daniel Reynolds, do hereby request all private correspondence from Kesha M. Reynolds be declined and returned unread for the preservation of personal and operational stability.
Margaret gripped the edge of the table.
“You told us she vanished,” she said.
