Chapter 7 - A Daughter's Question
That afternoon, Fort Irwin hosted a small remembrance for service members lost during overseas operations. Rusk planned to use it for photographs before the next day's demonstration. Marcus nearly left when he saw Leah Mercer standing by the memorial display.
Ruby was twelve now. She wore her father's old dog-tag chain beneath a blue shirt. Her eyes followed Viper across the courtyard with a painful kind of hope.
"Mom," she said, "that's Dad's dog."
Leah turned and saw Marcus. Her face shut down. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know what they told you," Marcus said.
"They told me Danny died pulling you out of trouble."
"He died going back for people he wouldn't leave behind."
Leah stepped closer. "That's not what the report says."
"The report is wrong."
"Four years, Marcus. Four birthdays. I had to explain to my daughter why her father didn't come home. And you're telling me a piece of paper made a mistake?"
Ruby slipped past her mother and crouched beside Viper. The dog rested his muzzle against her small hand. She pulled a crumpled drawing from her pocket: a soldier, a dog, and a little house under a yellow sun.
"Dad said Viper always found him," she told Marcus. "Did Viper find you?"
Marcus's eyes burned. "More than once."
Leah took Ruby's shoulder. "Come on, sweetheart."
But Ruby held out the drawing. "Then maybe he can find what happened."
Leah stared at Marcus, torn between anger and the possibility she feared more: that she had spent four years hating the wrong man.
She opened her purse and removed the letter military investigators had mailed her after the hearing.
"It says you authorized the convoy to leave Danny behind," she said. "There's a signed copy. I kept it."
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Marcus read the signature at the bottom. His own name, written by somebody else.
And in the margin was a handwritten note: REMOVE DOG FROM CASE FILE.
