I never told my sister-in-law that I was a Colonel in Army Intelligence!

To the Army, I was Colonel Johnathan Blackwood, Army Intelligence. I had spent years in places where silence was life and arrogance could get you killed. Now, on leave, I was trying to adjust to civilian life, trying to live without dragging the war into my everyday world.

Sarah wasn’t making that easy.

“Still pretending to be useful?”

Her voice came from the doorway, cutting through the air. She stood there with a vanilla latte in hand, wearing a cashmere sweater more expensive than my truck. Her expression was one of practiced disdain, reserved for people she deemed unworthy.

Sarah was Emily’s older sister. Three months ago, she had shown up with suitcases and a story about a breakup and a “toxic” job. Emily, ever the caretaker, had let her stay “for a little while.” A little while had stretched into months, with Sarah taking over the guest suite like it was hers. She criticized everything: the food, the cleaning, the thermostat—and me.

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