He looked completely out of place and visibly irritated that he had been forced to stand on unpaved ground.
His Italian leather shoes were already covered in red Georgia dust.
Lauren stood beside him, scrolling through her phone, bored.
Dad had not come to congratulate me.
He came to make sure I remembered my place.
Standing directly in front of my new commanding officers—a lieutenant colonel, company commander, and senior NCOs who had trained me for four years—he let out a dry, condescending laugh.
Then he pointed at my dusty boots and sneered loudly enough for everyone within fifteen feet to hear.
“She joined the army because in the real world, a brainless fool would starve.”
The words cut through the celebration.
The officers around me went silent.
My company commander’s jaw tightened so hard I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
A lieutenant colonel exchanged a sharp glance with the battalion executive officer.
