Knox tilted his head as I held the jacket up to the light. “Guess they’ll see who I really became,” I said softly.

The next morning, I called the courthouse. “Yes, ma’am,” the clerk confirmed. “Your parents are petitioning to have the family property transferred to them on grounds of abandonment.”

I bit down a sharp laugh. Abandonment? I was serving overseas.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to appear in person if you wish to contest it.”

I thanked her and hung up. Abandonment. The word dug deep. That was what my father had called me the night I enlisted. “You’re abandoning your family,” he’d said, red-faced and furious, grease stains on his mechanic’s hands. “No, Dad,” I’d replied, “I’m just trying to serve something bigger than myself.” He never forgave me for that.