Chapter 2: The General’s Daughter
“Call the medical team,” my mother ordered.
“Then arrest Colonel Lane.””
Two military police officers moved toward Grant.
He backed away.
“General Mercer, there’s been a misunderstanding.””
My mother didn’t blink.
“I watched you put your hands on her.””
“She’s my wife.””
“That does not give you ownership of her.””
Grant glanced around the room.
For the first time that night, he looked afraid.
Not angry.
Afraid.
“Rebecca,” he said.
My mother’s expression hardened.
“You will address me as General.””
One officer took Grant’s arm.
Grant jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.””
“Colonel,” the officer warned, “put your hands behind your back.””
“This is insane.””
My mother pointed toward the shattered certificate.
“That document represents eleven years of your wife’s service.””
Then she pointed toward me.
“And she is six months pregnant.””
Grant looked at me as though I had betrayed him.
“Audrey, tell them.””
I stared at him.
“Tell them what?””
“That we were arguing.””
“You threw me down.””
“It was an accident.””
“You grabbed my uniform.””
“You pushed me first.””
A shocked murmur moved through the room.
I could hardly believe it.
He was rewriting what had happened while the witnesses were still standing around us.
My mother looked at Major Ellis.
“Major, what did you see?””
Ellis swallowed.
Grant stared at him.
That stare said everything.
Choose carefully.
Ellis glanced at me.
Then at Grant.
“Ma’am…I saw Colonel Lane kick Captain Lane’s chair.””
Grant’s expression changed.
Ellis continued.
“I saw him grab her uniform and force her against the table.””
My mother turned toward another officer.
“Lieutenant Colonel Harris?””
Harris slowly nodded.
“Yes, General.””
“You witnessed it?””
“Yes.””
“Did Captain Lane physically threaten Colonel Lane before he touched her?””
“No, General.””
Grant snapped.
“You people are destroying my career over a marital argument!””
I felt something inside me break.
Not fear.
Something else.
The last excuse I had been making for him.
A medic hurried toward me with a wheelchair.
“I can walk,” I said.
“Captain, please sit.””
“My baby—”
“We’ll check both of you.””
Grant struggled as the military police secured his wrists.
“Audrey!””
I looked at him.
His voice softened instantly.
The same trick he had used before.
After punching a hole through our bedroom door.
After smashing my phone.
After squeezing my wrist until bruises appeared beneath my sleeve.
“Audrey, sweetheart, don’t do this.””
I stared at him.
“I’m not doing anything.””
“You know what this will cause.””
“No.””
I placed both hands over my stomach.
“You caused it.””
His face twisted.
“You’ll regret this.””
My mother heard him.
“So will you.””
They led him away.
The ballroom remained silent until the doors closed behind him.
Then I started shaking.
My mother crouched beside the wheelchair.
Her four stars meant nothing in that moment.
She was simply Mom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
I looked away.
“I thought I could handle it.””
“How long?””
I didn’t answer.
Her voice softened.
“Audrey.””
“About a year.””
Her face changed.
“A year?””
“Not like tonight.””
“What does that mean?””
I stared at the torn fabric where my insignia had been.
“He broke things. Blocked doors. Took my keys. Checked my phone.””
My mother closed her eyes briefly.
“He hurt you?””
I remembered the bruises.
The apologies.
The flowers.
The promises.
“He always knew where not to leave marks.””
My mother went completely still.
Then the medic wheeled me away.
At the hospital, monitors were attached around my belly.
A rhythmic heartbeat filled the room.
Fast.
Strong.
I started crying.
The nurse smiled gently.
“Your daughter sounds good.””
I covered my face.
Mom sat beside me.
For several minutes neither of us spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
I expected Grant.
Instead, it was an unknown number.
One photograph.
My bedroom.
Taken that morning.
The closet door was open.
Inside, the small lockbox where I kept personal documents had been emptied.
Under the photograph was a message.
*Ask your husband what he did with the documents before the banquet.*
My mother read it over my shoulder.
“What documents?””
I stared at the screen.
My military records.
Insurance information.
Passport.
And one sealed envelope Grant had never known existed.
At least, I thought he hadn’t.
My mother leaned closer.
“Audrey?””
May you like
I swallowed.
“There was something in that box that could destroy him.””
