What replaced it was something colder. Sharper.
That night, she understood the truth: they would never accept her. Their goal had always been to break her.
But they forgot one thing.
She wasn’t weak.
She was an officer.
At 4 a.m., she stood up. Packed quickly. At the bottom of a drawer, she found a small note Ethan had given her:
“No matter what happens, I choose you.”
She held onto that.
In the back of the closet, untouched, was the one thing they hadn’t dared to destroy.
Her Air Force dress uniform.
She put it on in silence. Every detail perfect. Every medal earned through real missions, storms, sleepless nights—not obedience.
