“Lauren gave them to investigators.”
Silence.
“And the federal bid?”
He whispered:
“What federal bid?”
Now I laughed.
The lie was pathetic.
“Daniel.”
“Rebecca, please.”
“The Army procurement integrity office has your submission.”
“Oh God.”
Those were the first honest words he had spoken.
Then came another.
“I can lose everything.”
I looked at our daughter.
“Yes.”
“You can’t let them do this.”
I felt nothing.
No victory.
No pleasure.
Just clarity.
“I didn’t do anything to you.”
Then I repeated something Grandpa Arthur used to tell me:
“Consequences don’t become cruelty just because they finally arrive.”
I ended the call.
Part Eight — The House
I was discharged three days later.
