Chapter 13 - The Name They Stole
June Parker had been twenty-six when she died. She liked gas-station coffee, bad action movies, and singing the wrong words to every song on the radio. During the attack she pushed a child into my arms, then went back for the interpreter pinned behind a vehicle.
I carried her photograph inside my uniform pocket at the Purple Heart ceremony.
When Shah told me someone had stolen money raised in June's name, I walked into the restroom and threw up.
Later I called June's mother, Ellen. Telling her felt worse than speaking to any investigator.
"I thought that grant was helping other soldiers," she said quietly.
"It was supposed to."
"Then we'll help them make it right," she answered. "My girl didn't die so somebody could buy another vacation home."
Those words steadied me more than any pep talk.
The next day Dana appeared at my apartment with new court papers. Margaret had petitioned to control certain decisions about my property, claiming I was mentally unfit because of my combat history and recent injury. She attached the same forged medical opinion we'd already challenged.
"Can she do that?" I asked.
"She can file a petition. It doesn't make the claims true," Dana said. "We'll oppose it with your treating doctors and the original medical records."
The hearing was set quickly. Margaret sat three rows ahead of me, shoulders straight, pearls gleaming. She never once looked at my belly.
My doctor testified that I was competent to make my own decisions. My rehabilitation records undermined the old report. The judge denied Margaret's request for emergency control and referred the suspect documents for further review.
Outside, Margaret caught my eye across the courthouse steps.
"You won't win everything," she said. "Ethan is still the baby's father."
Dana moved between us. "Any parenting issue belongs in court, not in a threat on the steps."
May you like
Margaret smiled thinly.
"Then you should ask your client why her husband's lawyer already has the nursery records."
