“Captain Jake Vance,” a woman’s voice said. “This is the base commander’s office.”

The line crackled with static.

“We have an emergency situation regarding your military status,” the voice said.

The voice on the speaker was crisp and formal, a stark contrast to Logan’s panicked breathing which still hummed on the other line.

“This is Assistant to the Commander, Lieutenant Miller,” the woman said. “Captain Vance, we have just received a formal filing from civilian counsel representing Walter and Patricia Vance.”

Jake did not look away from the window, where the snow was beginning to pile against the glass pane.

“What is the nature of the filing, Lieutenant?” Jake asked, his voice low.

“They have submitted an emergency petition alleging severe cognitive impairment and post-traumatic instability,” she replied. “They are requesting the military transition branch suspend your active status pending a psychiatric evaluation.”

My chest tightened, and I instinctively looked toward the corner of the room where Owen lay sleeping in his portable crib.

“They’re trying to lock you down,” I whispered, my hand finding Jake’s arm.

Jake gently pressed my fingers, his eyes remaining fixed on the snow outside.