They believed he was the standard of success, while they viewed my quiet administrative career as a disappointment.

My father had called me twice today, demanding I approve Nathan’s next assignment.

“Do something useful for once, Evelyn,” he had said over the phone.

“Nathan is the future of this family’s standing. Don’t let your petty jealousies get in the way.”

I pulled another document from the folder.

It was the maintenance log for the fast-attack craft used in the Persian Gulf.

The port engine had suffered a critical cooling failure three hours before launch.

Under standard operating procedures, the mission should have been aborted immediately.

Instead, Nathan had logged a manual bypass of the engine’s warning system.

He had forced his crew to ride a compromised vessel into open water just to ensure the rendezvous happened on his schedule.

If the engine had failed completely, they would have been adrift in international shipping lanes without propulsion.

He had risked six lives for a photo opportunity and a promotion.

I turned to the next page.

It was a medical report for a Petty Officer Second Class named Martinez.