Laura’s jaw tightened.
“Grandpa.”
“We’ll deal with what happened. Just not in the middle of your ceremony.”
That choice set the tone for everything that followed.
General Cole turned to the band leader.
“Start on time.”
Then he pointed to the empty seat beside him in the front row.
“Ray sits there.”
Shaw began to say something about protocol.
Lieutenant Nolan gently touched his sleeve.
“Sir,” he whispered, “don’t.”
Shaw finally listened.
Ray limped toward the front with Laura beside him. Soldiers who had been seated stood as he passed, not because anyone ordered them to, but because recognition moved through the crowd faster than instruction.
Ray looked uncomfortable with every second of it.
“Sit down,” he muttered.
Nobody did until he reached the chair.
The ceremony began.
Laura Reyes received a commendation for leading a difficult training rotation and for actions during an overseas evacuation the previous year. When her name was called, Ray clapped louder than anyone. The Medal of Honor ribbon stayed mostly hidden beneath his jacket again.
That was how he preferred it.
After the last formation was dismissed, General Cole did not allow the crowd of senior officers to surround Ray.
He led him to a small conference room inside the headquarters building, brought Laura and Lieutenant Nolan, and shut the door.
Colonel Shaw was told to wait outside.
Inside, Marcus Cole sat across from the man he had believed dead for half a century.
For several seconds, neither knew how to begin.
Ray solved it.
“You got old.”
Marcus laughed once and covered his face.
“You were already ugly.”
Laura stared at them.
“You two know each other from Vietnam?”
