*They redirected Ethan’s Basic Allowance for Housing and his family separation pay to a joint account they set up in your name.*

*But the routing number goes to a bank branch three miles from Greenaway Manor.*

My chest tightened so hard I could barely draw air.

“They intercepted his pay,” I whispered.

“Who did?” Miller asked, stepping closer to the bed.

“My parents,” I said. “Richard and Diane.”

I handed the phone to Sergeant Miller.

He took it, his gloved thumb scrolling through the documents.

“They filed a red-cross style emergency claim using a forged doctor’s note,” I explained, the words spilling out of me.

“They told his command that I was hospitalized months ago and needed financial guardianship.”

“That’s why Ethan’s communication has been restricted,” Miller realized, looking up from the phone. “His command put his pay on administrative hold pending an investigation.”

“Yes,” I said. “They kept him in the dark overseas, telling him there was a legal dispute at home, while they pocketed the money here.”

The door to the room creaked open slightly.

My mother, Diane, peeked her head through the gap.