His voice was like dry paper scraping against stone.

My mother took a step toward the desk, her handbag clutched against her chest like a shield.

“General, surely there is some mistake,” my mother said.

“Andrew has served this base for five years,” she added.

“He has kept this community together,” my mother said.

The General did not look at her.

He kept his eyes on the blinking red light of the telephone console.

“Major Vance,” the General said.

“Sir,” Vance replied, stepping forward.

“Escort the family to the side conference room,” the General said.

“I want them off my main floor before the transport team begins loading the crates,” he added.

“Yes, sir,” Vance said.

He turned to my father, who was staring at the floorboards as if he had just discovered a structural crack.

“Mr. Parker, Mrs. Parker, if you would follow me,” Vance said.

My mother didn’t move.

She looked at me, her eyes narrow and wet with angry tears.

“Are you going to let them do this to your sister, Emily?” she asked.

“You have been in command for less than an hour,” she said.