Daniel stepped back as though she had struck him.
The children pressed closer.
Ethan whispered, “Mama, are they mad at us?”
Daniel heard him.
For a fraction of a second, something like shame crossed his face. Then he buried it beneath pride.
“No,” I said, loud enough for every person in the room to hear. “No one is mad at you. Adults are responsible for their own choices.”
Captain Hale closed the folder.
“Colonel Reynolds, formal questioning will be scheduled. Today, we are serving notification. You are advised not to destroy records, alter communications, contact potential witnesses, or attempt to influence testimony.”
Daniel’s nostrils flared.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Colonel. I’m documenting procedure.”
One of Daniel’s uncles, a retired brigadier general, stepped out from the crowd. General Paul Reynolds had always carried himself like a man who expected silence to follow him. Even now, in a burgundy dinner jacket instead of uniform, the room gave way.
