“Rachel is with the authorities, Mother,” I said.

“She has some things she has to answer for.”

My mother looked down at our joined hands.

“She was always so desperate for more,” she said softly.

“She wanted the life we lost when your father died.”

“She didn’t have to steal it,” I said.

“We could have built a life together.”

“She chose a different path.”

My mother squeezed my hand with her weak fingers.

“You stayed,” she said.

“You kept your promise to your father.”

“I did,” I said.

“And I will make sure you are taken care of now.”

The medical team secured the stretcher, and the paramedic looked at me.

“We are ready to transport her to the Bethesda facility, Commander,” he said.

“I will follow you there,” I said.

I stepped out of the ambulance and watched the doors close.

Across the tarmac, Rachel was being led toward one of the black SUVs.

She wore a gray sweatshirt that the marshals had given her, her wedding dress left behind in a evidence bag.

She paused before getting into the vehicle.