Her eyes moved from my shoulder boards to the ribbons on my chest.
Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal.
Meritorious Service Medal.
Combat Action Ribbon.
Then she leaned forward.
“Captain Bates… from Yemen?”
The room seemed to change temperature.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Voss stopped smiling.
My mother glanced between us.
“What does Yemen have to do with a farm?”
“Possibly nothing,” Judge Price said quietly. “Please sit down, Mrs. Bates.”
I sat alone at the petitioner’s table.
No lawyer.
No dramatic stack of binders.
Only one slim black folder and a sealed envelope.
My father smirked when he noticed.
