“This is not about spite,” I said.

“Midnight, Evelyn,” he said. “I expect the confirmation email in my inbox.”

The line went dead.

I held the receiver for a long moment before placing it back on the cradle.

The silence returned to the room, heavier than before.

Outside the window, a steady rain began to pelt against the double-paned glass, blurring the distant lights of the Washington Monument.

I looked back at the screen.

My thumb hovered over the mouse.

Instead of clicking the red *AUTHORIZE TRANSFER* button, I moved the cursor to the folder icon labeled *Restricted Personnel Records*.

I entered my administrative override code.

The screen flickered, loading the raw, unedited logs of Nathan’s previous deployments.

If I was going to risk being cut off from my family, I wanted to know exactly what I was protecting.

I opened the folder for his last tour in the Pacific.

The first document was his citation for a Navy Commendation Medal.

It praised his leadership during a night diving exercise in the South China Sea, noting that he successfully navigated his team through a sudden underwater equipment failure.