Inside was the official citation, bearing the gold seal of the Department of Defense.

“I am here to read the official record of Lieutenant Colonel Emerson Rogers,” he said.

Michael took a half-step back, his boots squeaking on the polished floor.

Helen reached out to grab the edge of the table to steady herself.

The younger officers in the back of the room were leaning forward.

Some of them had their phones out, the screens glowing in the dim light of the perimeter.

Drummond cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the document.

“On the night of October twelfth,” Drummond read, his voice steady and loud.

“Colonel Rogers knowingly entered an active engagement zone with zero visibility.”

“She did so after being ordered to hold her position.”

Helen looked at Michael, her fingers twitching against her skirt.

Michael was staring at the floor, his face pale.

“The operation resulted in the recovery of seven Navy personnel,” Drummond continued.

He paused and looked directly at Helen.

“Personnel who would have been left behind.”

Helen tried to speak, her lips parting, but no sound came out.