the paperwork is handled exactly as it should be, Dad.”
He searched my face for resistance.
Found none.
“Good,” he said.
Then he walked away.
I stayed there, listening to the party.
Chloe still displaying the watch.
Vance still networking.
Evelyn still smiling as though everything was under control.
My smile stayed.
Through sunset.
Through the guests leaving.
Through the night.
And into the fluorescent-lit JAG office early Monday morning.
I carried my folder under one arm.
Clean floors.
Quiet halls.
No emotion.
Perfect.
A specialist checked me in, and
