Then I turned away.
“Lieutenant Colonel,” I said. “Please get my bags.”
I placed one hand over my stomach.
“We have a flight to catch.”
PART 3
The flight to Fort Meade was peaceful.
I sat near the window of the military transport aircraft, watching clouds stretch endlessly beneath us.
For the first time in months, the silence felt comforting instead of lonely.
I placed my hand over my stomach.
My baby kicked gently.
Marcus should have been sitting beside me.
That thought still hurt more than anything my family had done.
When the aircraft landed several hours later, a black town car waited near the runway.
Standing beside it was General Richard Vance—Marcus’s uncle and a senior Special Operations commander.
His dress uniform was covered with ribbons and decorations.
But when I reached him, he didn’t greet me formally.
He pulled me into his arms.
“You handled yourself well,” he said quietly. “Marcus would have been proud.”
I swallowed hard.
“Is the investigation finished?”
“Almost.”
Inside the car, General Vance handed me a secure tablet.
He explained that Raymond’s investment company had already been under investigation for serious financial misconduct.
By attempting to access Marcus’s protected system, Raymond had accidentally given investigators the connection they needed to examine far more of his activities.
My father, meanwhile, had apparently spent hours calling influential friends and political contacts.
Nobody wanted anything to do with him.
Then General Vance explained that my parents had also signed questionable documents connected to Raymond’s attempt to claim control over Marcus’s property.
Their involvement was now under review.
I closed my eyes.
For twelve years, my parents had treated me like the disappointing daughter.
They praised Victoria because she had married a supposedly successful businessman.
They dismissed Marcus because they believed he merely handled government consulting.
They judged everything by money, appearances, and status.
And in only a few hours, that illusion had collapsed.
General Vance eventually asked me a quieter question.
“What are you going to do with the house?”
I looked through the window.
“Keep it.”
He nodded.
“It’s where Marcus wanted our daughter to grow up.”
I touched my stomach.
“And that’s where she’ll grow up.”
Six months later, spring had transformed the property.
