Chapter 2 - The Daughter Who Wasn't Supposed to Exist
Lauren missed half a beat during her oath.
Only someone who knew her would have noticed.
I noticed.
Our mother definitely noticed.
"Captain Lauren Mercer," the presiding admiral said, "do you accept command?"
Lauren kept looking at me.
Then she faced forward.
"I do, sir."
Applause filled the auditorium.
I remained standing near the back wall.
I hadn't come to take anything from Lauren.
That was the part my mother had never understood.
Lauren deserved this moment.
When the ceremony ended, officers and families crowded around her.
I waited.
Mother didn't.
She crossed the auditorium like she was moving toward an enemy position.
"Outside."
I almost smiled.
"Hello to you too, Mother."
"Now."
Lauren appeared behind her.
"Mom."
"Not here, Lauren."
"No." Lauren looked at me. "She's my sister."
Mother's voice dropped.
"She had no business coming."
Lauren stared at her.
"You told me Rebecca couldn't attend."
"I told you she wouldn't."
"You said she was overseas."
"I was."
Both women turned toward me.
Lauren blinked.
"You were?"
"Until four days ago."
Mother's face hardened.
"Rebecca, leave."
"Why?"
"This is Lauren's ceremony."
"I know. That's why I'm here."
"You've made your point."
"I haven't made any point."
Mother stepped closer.
"Your presence complicates things."
Lauren frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"It means," I said, "someone filed a security report identifying me as a possible threat."
Lauren froze.
"What?"
Mother's eyes locked onto mine.
I continued.
"It was signed by Margaret Mercer."
Lauren turned slowly.
"Mom?"
"It's being misrepresented."
"Then represent it correctly."
Mother glanced around.
People were watching.
"Not here."
That was when Ramirez approached.
He stopped beside me.
"Commander."
Mother recognized him.
"Chief Ramirez."
"Admiral."
Retired or not, everyone still called her Admiral.
Ramirez looked uncomfortable.
Then he said, "Ma'am, Commander Mercer saved my life."
Mother's expression didn't move.
"This is a family matter."
"Respectfully, Admiral, it stopped being a family matter when her name went into a security system."
Exactly.
Lauren looked at me.
"You commanded this unit?"
The question hurt more than I expected.
"Yes."
Her eyes widened.
"When?"
"Before you."
"Why didn't I know?"
Mother answered.
"Because Rebecca's work was classified."
Lauren stared at her.
"All of it?"
"Enough."
I watched my sister process fifteen years of missing birthdays, vague job descriptions, unexplained deployments and photographs in which I was always absent.
"You told me she quit."
Mother said nothing.
Lauren's face changed.
"You said she couldn't handle command."
"Lauren—"
"You said she walked away."
Mother lowered her voice.
"I told you what you needed to hear."
"No. You told me what you wanted me to believe."
Mother looked at me.
"This is exactly why I didn't want her here."
I felt anger rising, but I kept my voice level.
"Why did you file the report three weeks ago?"
Lauren looked sharply at Mother.
"Three weeks?"
Mother's composure cracked for half a second.
Then she said, "Because I knew Rebecca might appear."
"How?"
Silence.
I stepped closer.
"Mother, how did you know?"
She looked toward the exit.
I understood.
Someone had told her.
Someone with access to my travel information.
That was a much bigger problem.
Brooks entered the auditorium.
"Commander Mercer?"
"Yes?"
"We need to speak."
Mother immediately said, "This can wait."
Brooks didn't even look at her.
"No, Admiral. It can't."
She handed me a printed page.
"The original report was preserved."
I read it.
Most of it was what I'd expected.
Potential disruption.
Estranged family member.
Emotionally unpredictable.
Possible confrontation.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
I read it twice.
Lauren noticed.
"What?"
I handed her the page.
Her eyes moved down.
Then stopped.
She looked at Mother.
"You wrote that Rebecca falsely claims to have commanded this unit?"
Mother said nothing.
Lauren's voice shook.
"You knew she did."
"It was classified."
"Then why call it false?"
Mother finally snapped.
"Because nobody was supposed to confirm it!"
The nearby conversations died instantly.
Mother realized what she'd said.
Too late.
Ramirez stared at her.
Lauren whispered, "You weren't protecting classified information."
Mother looked away.
Lauren's eyes filled with something colder than anger.
"You were protecting the version of our family where Rebecca failed."
Mother's mouth tightened.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it."
Mother looked at me.
I had spent fifteen years reading people under pressure.
I recognized the calculation happening behind her eyes.
May you like
She was deciding whether the truth was worse than the lie.
Finally she said, "Your sister was never supposed to come back."
