“You are seeing threats where they do not exist, sweetheart,” he said, his voice gentle, almost breaking with artificial sympathy.

He looked at Colonel Hayes, then at the guests nearest to us.

“We all know what happened in Kabul,” Richard said. “The ambush. The sleepless nights. It does things to the mind.”

“I am perfectly sane,” I said, my voice steady, though my heart hammered against my ribs.

“Of course you think you are,” Richard said, his eyes shining with a calculated sadness. “But accusing your own father of poisoning a drink? In our own home?”

He shook his head slowly.

“You need help, Natalie. We wanted to give you space to recover, but this… this is a crisis.”

Colonel Hayes held the glass by the stem, his eyes dark as he stared at the liquid inside.

He did not sniff it, nor did he set it down.

“Captain Brooks,” Hayes said, using my rank. “Are you certain about this allegation?”

“I am, Colonel,” I said. “And I think you know exactly what is in that glass.”

Hayes’s jaw tightened, a tiny muscle leaping in his cheek.