If the military investigation found even a shadow of truth in those accusations, I could lose my rank, my security clearance, my law license, and my Army career.
A damaging discharge code could follow me through every future background check and job application.
Dad had engineered a two-front attack designed to destroy my professional world and personal inheritance at the same time.
He wanted me mentally shattered before I entered the courtroom.
For weeks, I paced the floor of my quarters late into the night.
By 3:00 a.m., the old boards groaned beneath my boots.
His clock was running.
I needed a counterattack.
Three months before the federal hearing, an invitation arrived in my mailbox.
Cream-colored cardstock.
Gold embossed lettering.
Lauren’s youngest daughter’s birthday party.
I knew immediately what it was.
Not simply a family gathering.
A reconnaissance mission.
Dad wanted to see me.
He wanted to read my face and determine whether the anonymous letters had broken me.
