this evening.””
A short pause followed. General Vance knew the depth of my patience; he also knew the catastrophic force that followed when that patience snapped. “”Consider it done, Colonel. Anything else?””
“”Send the moving vans. Not a scrap of my late wife’s family furniture stays under that roof.””
Within thirty minutes, the dominoes began falling.
Sarah’s husband—my brother, David—was currently away on a business trip that I had quietly funded through my corporate consulting branch. He had been blind to his wife’s cruelty for years, perpetually convinced by her
