“The General’s cybersecurity team traced that specific IP address,” I said.

“It belongs to the residential router at Andrew and Claire’s off-post housing.”

My mother leaned closer, her shoulder brushing against my father’s sleeve as she stared at the printout.

“But it has your name on it,” she whispered.

“Andrew had access to the local network administration tools,” I said.

“He used a spoofing program to mask his location and send messages from a simulated military domain.”

Claire took a sharp breath, her eyes darting toward the closed door of the office.

She did not look at her husband, who stood frozen near the window.

“He was just trying to protect our family dynamic,” Claire said, her voice rising.

“You were always gone, Emily.”

“You didn’t care about what was happening at home.”

The General shifted his weight, his boots creaking on the polished floorboards.

“Mrs. Carter, I suggest you remain quiet while your parents review the evidence,” the General said.

His tone was flat, carrying the weight of thirty years of absolute authority.

My father turned the page to a set of bank transfer records.