PART 1
My sister wore the sniper badge like a crown at her engagement party.
She smiled for cameras, lifted a glass of Dom Pérignon, and told a hundred guests she had beaten the most ruthless sniper instructor alive.
She didn’t know that instructor was standing ten feet away.
Holding club soda.
Wearing boots.
Watching her lie.
Fiona Pierce touched the badge pinned to her dress uniform and said, “Some women are built for greatness. Others are built for supply closets.”
The guests laughed.
My father laughed the loudest.
I didn’t laugh.
I just stared at that little piece of polished metal on her chest and wondered how long it would take before it destroyed her life.
Because Fiona had not earned that badge.
I knew that better than anyone.
May you like
I was the one who failed her.
Twice.
