Owen exhaled so hard that Elena almost laughed.
“I thought I was going to throw up,” he said.
“Me too.”
He looked surprised. “You didn’t look like it.”
“That’s because I was trying not to throw up.”
The laugh came then, brief and exhausted.
Owen rubbed his palms on his trousers. “Do you think I just ruined my career?”
Elena considered giving him the reassuring answer she wanted to hear herself.
Instead she said, “I don’t know what happens next. But your statement is yours. You told the truth about what you saw.”
He nodded slowly.
“That’s harder than it sounds.”
“I know.”
Major Hsu returned alone. She collected the unsigned summaries, Elena’s original notes, copies of the electronic timestamps, and Owen’s log. She told them not to discuss the substance of the review with others until interviews were complete. She also told them neither would be required to sign the revised versions that night.
“Go home,” she said.
Elena looked toward Weller’s empty chair.
“Ma’am, is Captain Weller–”
“Captain Weller and I are having a separate conversation.”
That was all she offered.
Elena reached the parking lot after midnight.
Her husband, Marco, was waiting in the passenger seat of their car because she had left him a message that only said she would be late. He had brought the birthday cake in a plastic container.
“She tried to stay awake,” he said.
Elena closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“She made it to ten-fifteen. That’s a personal record.”
He did not ask whether the work had been worth missing the evening. He knew better than to turn two painful things into opponents.
“Did you sign?” he asked.
“No.”
Marco nodded once. “Okay.”
The simplicity nearly broke her.
At home, Elena stood in the doorway of her daughter’s room. Sofia was asleep on top of the covers, one birthday sock still on and one bare foot sticking out. A paper crown had fallen beside the pillow.
