“We need to talk.”
Inside, she shut the door.
My father remained standing.
My mother sat.
I stayed near the table, hands behind my back out of habit.
My father noticed.
“Relax, Madison.”
I did not.
He sighed.
“Or don’t.”
My mother leaned forward.
“Commander Callahan told us Ethan Vale was seen in the footage.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes softened slightly.
“You know who he is.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know everything.”
The room seemed to tighten.
My father looked away.
That frightened me more than anything.
Because my father faced pain directly.
Unless the pain had a name he had been avoiding for years.
“What don’t I know?” I asked.
My mother glanced at him.
He gave a small nod.
She continued.
“Ethan Vale was not only removed from training because of dangerous conduct. He was part of a group under investigation for off-book hazing and coercion.”
My throat tightened.
“At the Academy?”
“No,” my father said. “Before. During a selection preparation program. Informal. Unofficial. The kind of thing people pretend doesn’t exist until someone gets hurt.”
“Someone did get hurt?”
My father’s jaw tightened.
“A young candidate named Daniel Mercer.”
The name stirred something distant.
I had heard it before.
In whispers.
At barbecues where adults went quiet when kids entered the room.
“What happened to him?”
My father looked at me.
“He died.”
The words settled over the room.
No drama.
No thunder.
Just truth.
“Training accident?” I asked.
“That’s what the report said,” my mother replied.
“And what do you say?”
My father’s eyes darkened.
“I say Ethan Vale was there. I say Bradley Knox’s uncle was there. I say several men lied. And I say Daniel Mercer’s family never got the truth.”
The air left my lungs.
“Bradley’s uncle?”
My father nodded.
“Clay Knox. Former officer. Powerful friends. Clean record on paper.”
I thought of Bradley’s confidence.
His entitlement.
His panic.
