“He always wanted his daughter to wear this,” she said, looking at me.

“We are putting his name on the wall of honor at the Pentagon next month,” Avery said.

“Will you be there, Natalie?”

“I will,” I said. “We both will.”

We walked down the paved path to the section where my father’s headstone stood.

The old, plain marker was gone, replaced by a new granite stone.

It read: *Daniel Hayes, Major, United States Army.*

Beneath his name, the words were carved deep into the stone: *A Soldier of Truth.*

I reached down and touched the cold granite, my fingers finding the letters of his name.

The wind off the bay was cold, but it felt clean.

The lies that had sustained the Richards family for three decades had been dismantled.

My mother stood beside me, her arm linked in mine.

For the first time in my life, I knew exactly who I was, and the name on my uniform belonged to the man who had died to protect the truth.