“I don’t understand,” I said. “My unit is preparing for deployment next week.”

“The orders came directly from the Chief of Naval Operations,” he replied. “A transport plane is waiting for you at Andrews Air Force Base.”

“Why?” I asked.

“That is classified,” he said. “Get on the plane, Commander.”

The line went dead.

I hung up the receiver and turned back to Vance.

“My mother died ten years ago,” I said, my voice shaking. “We buried her.”

“You buried an empty casket after the cottage fire,” Vance said.

“Rachel told me the body was too badly damaged,” I said. “She handled the cremation before I could get back from sea.”

Vance shook his head.

“Your sister lied to you, Emily.”

“She wanted you out of the way, and she wanted her mother gone.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because a living mother from a middle-class suburb did not fit the aristocratic story Rachel sold to the royal family,” Vance said.

“We need to go,” he added, checking his watch. “The car is waiting.”

I grabbed my trench coat and followed him out of the apartment.