Chapter 4 - The Silver Star in the Shoebox
"Is this true?"
It was Aurelia’s fiancé, his voice stripped of all its previous condescension. He was looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
I kept my hands folded in my lap. I had spent two decades training to show no emotion, to keep my heart rate steady whether I was buying groceries or watching a compound explode in real-time.
"I am a Senior Intelligence Director for the Department of Defense," I said quietly, the words feeling strange in my aunt’s dining room. "My clearance level requires me to maintain a low profile. The nature of my work is classified."
"But... twenty years?" Maribel whispered, her reality fracturing. "You never said a word. You let us think..."
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"I let you think what you needed to think," I replied, my voice steady. "My job is to protect assets. It’s to keep people like your son alive so they can come home to dinners like this. What you thought of me while I passed the salt was irrelevant."
Stellan walked around the table and stood behind my chair, a silent, imposing guard. "The commendation she received for that night—the one my commanding officer personally flew to Washington to recommend her for—sits in a shoebox under her bed, Mom. Because her name can't be put on a plaque. She sacrifices the glory so we can have the safety."
