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\u201cDisclaimer: This story is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. It does not represent any organization or individual, nor does it encourage inappropriate behavior. The content was generated with AI assistance.<\/p>\n
PART 2<\/p>\n
The world tilted, then steadied. I knew that face. I knew that dress. But I did not know this woman.<\/p>\n
My mother. A woman who wore pearls like armor and never raised her voice above a pleasant hum. The last person I ever suspected of anything secret.<\/p>\n
Colonel Hayes watched me carefully. \u201c\u201d General?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
I forced the breath out of my lungs. \u201c\u201dGet her.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t ask which her. He simply nodded and spoke quietly to an officer by the door.<\/p>\n
Ethan stood near the window, half in shadow. \u201c\u201dAlyssa, what does that mean?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dIt means somebody used her access,\u201d\u201d I said. \u201c\u201dOr she gave it to someone.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
He shook his head. \u201c\u201dMom wouldn\u2019t.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe him. I had wanted to believe a lot of things tonight.<\/p>\n
The conference room seemed smaller now. The classified papers hummed under the lights. My mother\u2019s face stared up at me from the screen\u2014careful makeup, pearl earrings, emerald gown.<\/p>\n
I remembered her standing near the stage, laughing with guests. I remembered how her eyes skipped over me when I walked in. But I also remembered the way her chin trembled when she said she missed me.<\/p>\n
Two versions of the same woman. I didn\u2019t know which one was real.<\/p>\n
The door opened.<\/p>\n
She walked in slowly, arms held tight against her sides. Behind her, the officer closed the door with a soft click. When she saw the image on the laptop screen, her lips parted. Then her eyes filled with something that looked like fear.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dOh, God,\u201d\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dSit down, Mom.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
She sat in the nearest chair like her legs had given out. Ethan moved closer but kept his distance.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dMom,\u201d\u201d he said. \u201c\u201dWhy is your access card on that man?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at the photo. \u201c\u201dI didn\u2019t give it to him. I swear I didn\u2019t.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dThen how did he get it?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother\u2019s hands shook. She pulled her purse onto her lap and opened it with trembling fingers. Her wallet, her phone, a worn tissue. She searched frantically, then went still.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dIt\u2019s gone,\u201d\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dWhat\u2019s gone?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dMy extra event badge. I clipped it to the inside of my clutch.\u201d\u201d She looked up at me, wide-eyed. \u201c\u201dIt was there when I arrived. I remember checking it.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dWhen did you notice it missing?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Her voice cracked. \u201c\u201dI didn\u2019t. I never thought to look. There was so much happening. The beautiful speeches, the lights. I was trying to survive your father\u2019s storytelling.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
The room ached with the truth of that.<\/p>\n
Ethan knelt beside her. \u201c\u201dDid anyone take your purse tonight?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
She thought. \u201c\u201dA waiter bumped into me while I was standing near the bar. Red wine spilled on my sleeve. I set my clutch down for a second to clean it. He was very apologetic. Held towels for me.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dDescription?\u201d\u201d Colonel Hayes asked.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dHe was young. Dark hair. He wore the hotel uniform, but the jacket was too tight across the shoulders.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
I exchanged a look with Colonel Hayes. The gray man. It fit.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dMom,\u201d\u201d I said gently, \u201c\u201ddo you know why someone would go to the trouble of stealing your badge?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth. \u201c\u201dI don\u2019t know. I\u2019m not important. I\u2019m just the wife of a man who learned to erase his own daughter.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Her tears broke loose then. Not pretty tears, not practiced ones. They ran through her carefully applied makeup and dissolved into raw grief.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dI am so sorry, Alyssa. I should have fought harder. I should have written you myself. I let him bury you because I was afraid of losing what little family I had left.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan held her. I watched, my throat burning.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dDo you know anything about Clara\u2019s involvement?\u201d\u201d Colonel Hayes asked.<\/p>\n
My mother straightened at the name. \u201c\u201dClara? No. She doesn\u2019t trust me. She has always thought I was weak.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dShe\u2019s not weak,\u201d\u201d I said. \u201c\u201dAnd neither were you. Scared maybe, but not weak.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother looked at me like I had spoken a foreign language.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dWhere is Clara staying?\u201d\u201d I asked Colonel Hayes.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dHer address in the system is in Arizona, but a hotel key was found among the recovered items.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened. \u201c\u201dShe\u2019s here?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dYes, ma\u2019am. She booked a room on the fifth floor under a guest account.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dThen go get her.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Colonel Hayes motioned to an officer. But before anyone could move, the secure device buzzed again. He picked it up, listened, frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dGeneral, we have a development.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dWhat?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dThe gray man was detained by hotel security in the parking garage. He\u2019s conscious and asking for you by name.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence settled over the room.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dDid he say who he is?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
Colonel Hayes held the phone tighter. \u201c\u201dHe claims to be retired Special Forces. Says he was hired by a private citizen to intercept a courier carrying family documents. He had no idea the package was military.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
The pieces clicked into place like a lock.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u201dLet me talk to him.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
We moved down to a service office off the loading dock. The gray suit now wore handcuffs beneath a hotel security jacket. He was older than I expected\u2014fifty, maybe more. A scar cut through his right eyebrow.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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