I picked up my son carefully, wrapping him in my jacket. Audrey stepped in front of me, demanding to know where I thought I was going. “Out,” I said simply. Eleanor tried to block me next, insisting I “listen to reason,” but I had already heard enough.
What they didn’t know was that I had spent weeks preparing for this return. My commanding officer had expedited my release after concerns were raised. A welfare investigation had already been opened quietly before I even landed. And every message Sophia had managed to send had already been documented.
I had also secured records they thought were gone—deleted messages, hidden camera footage, financial access logs, and proof of interference. They thought I was walking into ignorance. I was walking in with evidence.
The sound of vehicles outside made the room shift. For the first time, Eleanor looked uncertain-
