“All three, equally, with a contingent provision for any legally established additional child.”
I looked toward Scarlett.
She closed her eyes.
For the first time that morning, something resembling relief crossed her face.
Her baby had not been erased.
Neither had mine.
Bradley continued.
“The funds will be placed under the appropriate custodial arrangements.
You will receive formal documentation through casualty affairs.
Nothing needs to be decided today.”
Beatrice stared at him.
“He promised Scarlett a house.”
Scarlett turned sharply.
“Beatrice.”
“What? He did.”
“No,” Scarlett said slowly.
“You told me he did.”
Beatrice’s mouth opened.
Scarlett’s face changed as another memory apparently rearranged itself.
“The deed,” she whispered.
I said nothing.
She looked at Beatrice.
“You said Garrett transferred the Virginia house to us before he left.”
Beatrice glanced toward the cameras.
“Not here.”
Bradley’s expression sharpened.
Scarlett continued.
“You gave me papers to sign.”
Beatrice reached for her again.
“Enough.”
Scarlett stepped away.
General Bradley did not intervene in the property dispute, and neither did I.
It had nothing to do with the classified operation or my children.
But Beatrice’s panic made one thing clear.
She had spent years controlling Garrett’s story after he stopped controlling it himself.
Now the documents were speaking without her permission.
Bradley asked whether I was ready to receive the flag.
I looked toward the pavilion.
“No.”
Beatrice almost smiled.
Then I finished.
“My children should receive it.”
Bradley nodded.
He signaled to the aide.
My triplets returned together beneath a large black umbrella.
They looked small against the rows of white stones.
I knelt as they approached.
“The general has something that belonged to Dad’s service,” I told them.
“He wants you to have it.”
“Why us?” one asked.
Because your father finally remembered you, I thought.
But seven-year-olds should not be required to carry an adult’s guilt.
“Because you’re his children.”
General Bradley lowered himself onto one knee.
The four-star general who had walked past an entire front row now spoke gently enough that only the children, Scarlett, Beatrice, and I could hear.
“Your father helped people during his final mission.
