“So you lied to us for twelve years.”
“I protected classified work for twelve years.”
“That is the same thing.”
“No, Harper. It isn’t.”
Julian glanced at her.
“You told me she had already left the service.”
Harper’s head snapped toward him.
“I said she was basically done.”
“You said she had agreed to let me use the room.”
The sentence landed harder than his laughter had in the kitchen.
Harper had not merely assumed I would surrender my bedroom after the funeral. She had promised it to him before anyone asked me.
My mother stepped off the porch and pulled her robe tighter around herself.
“We can discuss all of this inside,” she said. “The neighbors don’t need to see military trucks sitting in the driveway.”
