My voice shook despite myself.
I hated that.
I had faced armed suspects without trembling. I had testified before hostile committees without blinking.
But motherhood had rooms inside me no armor could reach.
Daniel whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I looked at him then.
Really looked.
He was older. Still handsome in the way that had once undone me. Still tall, still decorated, still carrying the Reynolds name like polished steel.
But now I could see the hollowness under it.
The man I had once loved was not hidden beneath his pride.
His pride had been the man.
“Apologize to them when they’re ready,” I said. “Not to ease yourself. To give them truth.”
He nodded, tears finally spilling.
The sight did not satisfy me.
That was how I knew I was free.
Footsteps approached quickly.
Captain Hale appeared at the doorway.
“Commander,” he said, his expression sharpened. “We need to speak.”
