“When did she give you this?”
“About two months before she died.”
Dad looked away.
“She knew the foundation planned to recognize you someday,” Mrs. Alvarez said.
“Not when.
But General Harrington had contacted me about possibly attending whenever the operation was publicly discussed.”
Harrington nodded.
“Your mother knew a ceremony might eventually happen.”
Mrs. Alvarez looked at the envelope.
“She asked me to bring that if I ever attended one.”
“Did she tell you what’s inside?”
“No.”
I could have opened it immediately.
Instead, I slipped it carefully into the inside pocket of my uniform jacket.
Madison looked surprised.
“You’re not reading it?”
“Not here.”
Dad nodded before anyone else could speak.
“Your mother would approve.”
Our eyes met.
Something quiet passed between us.
For once, he had understood my choice without requiring an explanation.
The gala ended just after ten.
Outside, Washington was cool and bright beneath the city lights.
