Every woman who spoke against her became defective.
That was Linda’s last lesson: when control fails, contempt shows its face.
The trial date was set months away. Civil proceedings moved separately. My annulment petition advanced quickly once identity fraud became undeniable. The court froze disputed assets. My pension remained protected. The house entered legal limbo.
Meanwhile, my hair grew back.
At first it was shadow. Then rough velvet. Then a dark cap that made me look younger and harder at once. People stopped staring. Or maybe I stopped noticing.
One evening, after a long classified briefing, Major Desai knocked on my open door.
“Ma’am, do you have a minute?”
“Of course.”
She stepped inside carrying two paper cups of tea. “You missed dinner again.”
“I had pretzels.”
“That is not dinner.”
“It’s adjacent.”
She placed tea on my desk with the authority of a medic issuing orders. “You can court-martial me later.”
