Chapter 7: The Promise My Father Made
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
My mother sat before me with her hands twisted together, staring at the letter as if the paper itself might accuse her.
"Mom," I said carefully, "what do you mean he was afraid I'd come home alive?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know exactly what he meant.""
"Then tell me what you do know.""
Her eyes filled again.
"That night, after you left, your father received a call. I heard him arguing with someone in his study. He kept saying the same thing.""
"What thing?""
"He said, 'She doesn't know anything. You promised me she wouldn't be involved.''"
A cold sensation traveled down my spine.
"Who was he talking to?""
"I couldn't hear the other person's voice.""
"Did you ask him?""
"Of course I asked him!"" Her voice rose, then fell.
"He told me it was a business matter. When I pushed, he said it concerned your future and that I needed to trust him.""
I looked at the letter again.
If you're reading this, then the promise I made to Peter Lawson has finally been broken.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?""
"Because your father said you were in danger.""
"And you believed him?""
"I was frightened, Samantha. You were gone, and nobody would tell us where you were. Your father said that if we kept asking questions, we could make things worse for you.""
She wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand.
"I thought silence was protecting you.""
I knew that feeling. I'd spent twelve years protecting my family from information they had never wanted to understand. I'd told myself that keeping quiet was an act of love, even when their silence had cut deeper than any insult.
But my mother had possessed something I hadn't.
A choice.
She could have told me she loved me. She could have challenged Dad when he called me a failure. She could have refused to let him turn my absence into a family joke.
Instead, she'd kept the peace.
"Did you ever read this letter?"" I asked.
"No. I found it last week when I was looking for your father's insurance papers. I recognized your name, but I didn't open it.""
"Why not?""
"Because of what was written on the envelope.""
She pointed to the warning beneath my name.
*OPEN ONLY IF SAMANTHA ASKS ABOUT THE NIGHT SHE LEFT.*
"He wanted it found under those circumstances," she whispered.
"I thought maybe he was finally ready to explain.""
I turned the page over.
There was a handwritten telephone number at the bottom, followed by a name.
*Peter Lawson — Personal*
I immediately called Rebecca Shaw.
She answered on the second ring.
"Colonel Hayes.""
"I found a letter from my father referencing Peter Lawson. It includes a telephone number. I need to know whether it matches any number in the original file.""
"Don't call it yourself," Shaw said sharply.
"Photograph both sides, preserve the original, and bring it to the inspector general's office. I'll arrange for it to be examined.""
"Understood.""
"And Colonel? Do not confront your father alone until we know more.""
I glanced toward the auditorium doors.
Too late.
Dad stood in the entrance, watching us.
He wasn't wearing his jacket anymore. His tie hung loose, and his face looked older than it had that morning.
"Elaine," he said.
"Come here.""
Mom remained seated.
For the first time I could remember, she didn't move when he gave her an order.
Dad looked at me.
"Give me the letter.""
"No.""
"That letter isn't what you think.""
"Then explain it.""
He glanced around the auditorium. Several guests were watching us, and a sailor near the stage had stopped arranging the chairs.
"Not here.""
"You keep saying that. But you've had twelve years to talk to me privately.""
His jaw tightened.
"I made a mistake.""
"What mistake?""
"I should never have contacted Lawson.""
The admission struck harder than I'd expected.
Mom stood.
"Richard, what did you do?""
Dad rubbed his face.
"I thought I could protect her.""
"From whom?"" I asked.
He looked at me, and for a moment I saw something that resembled genuine fear.
"From the people who wanted you selected.""
The words seemed to empty the room of air.
"You said you recommended me because you believed in me.""
"I did believe in you.""
"Then who wanted me selected?""
Dad glanced toward the doors again.
"I can't tell you.""
"Can't or won't?""
His face crumpled briefly before anger rushed in to replace whatever emotion had escaped.
"Don't use my words against me.""
"You taught me those words.""
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Samantha, listen to me. You have no idea what you're opening up. Lawson made a promise, and I made one to him. If you take this any further, people who have been protecting you for twelve years won't be able to do it anymore.""
"Protecting me from what?""
He opened his mouth.
Then someone called his name from behind him.
"Mr. Hayes?""
Rebecca Shaw stood in the doorway with two investigators.
"Please come with us. We need to discuss the complaint you submitted.""
Dad stared at her.
"Now?""
"Now.""
He looked back at me.
"Don't trust the story they give you.""
Then he followed the investigators out.
Mom slowly sat down.
I slipped the letter into a protective folder Shaw had given me and watched the doors close behind my father.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.
**Your father has finally told you part of the truth. If you want the rest, meet me tomorrow at 0600. Naval Station Norfolk.
Gate three. Come alone.**
A second message followed.
*Ask what happened to the extraction team after Lawson's final transmission.*
I read the message twice.
Then I looked at the number.
It was the same number written at the bottom of my father's letter.
May you like
And the message had been signed with two words.
*Peter Lawson.*
