“Why are you even sitting here? This section is for immediate family.”
“I am immediate family,” I said.
Her smile widened.
“I meant supportive family.”
My aunt laughed softly at the remark. My father said nothing, and Jason heard every word. I caught the faint movement at the corner of his mouth, almost as if he agreed, and somehow that hurt more than I wanted to admit.
A moment later, my father leaned closer so only I could hear him.
“After the ceremony, don’t come to the private reception unless Jason invites you. This is a military crowd. People ask questions.”
Questions.
The word almost made me laugh, because if anyone attending that ceremony had begun asking the right questions, my family’s carefully protected image would never have survived the answers.
I had driven through the entire night from Arizona for one reason only: to watch my younger brother earn his Trident. Before arriving, I had promised myself I would sit quietly, applaud when the ceremony ended, and leave without creating a single scene.
