Five years prior, the Pacific Star had dominated headlines—a Navy supply vessel ablaze for seven hours after its emergency systems failed. My father’s company had supplied those defective systems. The blame had been pinned on three junior engineers, and the case had been quietly closed. My family told everyone I had been broken by grief and vanished, but the truth was simpler: I had gone where they could not reach me.
Celeste’s composure returned faster than I expected. Cruelty had always been her armor.
“So what?” she snapped. “You joined the Navy. Congratulations. That doesn’t make you better than us.”
“No,” I said. “It made me patient.”
Her eyes narrowed. My father seized my arm, hard enough to leave bruises.
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