I owed that to myself.
The sound was worse than the image.
The clippers buzzing.
Linda muttering.
Ryan’s voice from the doorway: “Just make sure she can’t go in like that tomorrow.”
Then Linda: “She won’t.”
The old me might have shattered hearing it.
The woman in court that day sat still.
When the footage ended, Ryan’s attorney looked as if someone had removed the floor beneath his table.
The judge denied a reduction in restrictions.
Linda stared forward, lips pressed so tightly they disappeared.
Outside the courtroom, reporters waited. Not many, but enough. Public affairs had prepared guidance. Sarah had prepared me better.
“No comment on ongoing legal proceedings,” I said.
A reporter asked, “Colonel Ellison, how do you respond to claims that your husband was trying to protect your family?”
I stopped.
Sarah’s hand hovered near my arm.
I faced the reporter.
“Protection does not require forgery,” I said. “Love does not require fear. That is all.”
