The room broke on my name. “Commander.” One second I was just the sister in the green dress reaching for ice water; the next, I was a classified file someone had accidentally read aloud. Conversations stalled, crystal chimed, and the harbor fog seemed to seep under the canvas, thickening around my throat. Vanessa’s whisper—women like her never outrank anybody—rang louder than the string quartet as every face turned, weighing the version of me they’d rehearsed against the one General Hail had just dragged into the light, waiting to see how I would carr… Continues…
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