Chapter 4 - What My Brother StoleThere were seven documents.
Barely.
Captain Reeves made the decision after a whispered conversation with Master Chief Daniels and two other officers.
The candidates had earned their moment, he said.
Whatever else had just happened would be addressed afterward.
I agreed.
Ryan did not look relieved.
When his Trident was finally pinned to his uniform, Mom stood and applauded with trembling hands.
Dad tried.
I watched quietly.
My feelings were complicated.
Ryan had lied.
He had apparently manufactured messages.
And yet when that gold insignia touched his chest, some part of me still remembered the little boy who used to wait at the window for me to come home from high school.
I remembered teaching him to ride a bicycle.
I remembered sitting beside his bed when he broke his arm.
Families are strange that way.
A person can hurt you at thirty and still exist inside your memory at seven.
When the ceremony ended, families rushed forward.
Mine didn’t.
Captain Reeves approached Ryan first.
“Petty Officer Carter, remain here.”
Ryan’s shoulders stiffened.
“Yes, sir.”
“Your parents as well.”
He looked at me.
“And Commander Carter.”
Dad immediately protested.
“Is my son in trouble?”
“No determination has been made.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said.”
We were escorted to a conference room inside a nearby building.
My mother kept trying to speak to Ryan.
He barely acknowledged her.
I walked behind them with Master Chief Daniels.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“You always say that when you’re not.”
I glanced at him.
“You’ve gotten old.”
He grinned.
“So have you.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
Inside the conference room, Ryan sat at one end of the table.
Our parents took chairs beside him.
I remained standing.
Captain Reeves placed Ryan’s phone on the table.
“Petty Officer Carter, I’m going to give you an opportunity to explain.”
Ryan looked toward me.
“I already did.”
“Then explain the origin of the messages.”
“She sent them.”
I leaned against the wall.
Captain Reeves spoke evenly.
“Commander Carter states she did not.”
“She’s protecting herself.”
Dad nodded.
“You don’t know my daughter.”
I almost admired the confidence with which he said it.
Captain Reeves turned.
“Sir, respectfully, neither do you.”
Dad’s face reddened.
Ryan leaned forward.
“Look, maybe the date is wrong.”
“Digital records do not generally invent dates convenient to your argument,” I said.
He snapped his head toward me.
“You think you’re so smart.”
“I think somebody created those messages.”
Mom suddenly slammed her palm on the table.
“Stop attacking your brother.”
There it was.
The family reflex.
Ryan could accuse me of threatening his career.
He could present fake evidence.
And somehow asking questions made me the aggressor.
I looked at her.
“I haven’t attacked anyone.”
“You embarrassed him today.”
“I sat in a chair.”
“You should have told us.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“Of course!”
I laughed.
I didn’t mean to.
The sound simply escaped.
Mom looked wounded.
“Three years ago,” I said, “you told Aunt Lorraine I was probably lying about having a government job because no respectable employer would tolerate me disappearing so often.”
Her face changed.
“Two Christmases ago, Dad said Ryan was the only child who had ever served his country.”
Dad looked away.
“Last summer, Ryan called me a professional tourist.”
“That was a joke,” Ryan muttered.
“You told it during Grandma’s birthday dinner while everyone laughed.”
He shrugged.
“So?”
“So I learned something.”
I pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
“There’s no point handing people the truth when they’ve already decided who you are.”
For the first time, Ryan’s confidence disappeared completely.
Captain Reeves interrupted.
“This is no longer a family disagreement.”
He tapped the phone.
“If documents or communications have been fabricated to influence military personnel, we need to know why.”
Ryan swallowed.
“They weren’t.”
“Then unlock the device.”
“I don’t have to.”
“You are correct. I can request that investigators handle this properly.”
Ryan went pale.
Dad stood.
“You’re threatening him over a sibling argument?”
“No.”
Reeves remained calm.
“I’m telling him his options.”
Mom looked at Ryan.
“Honey, just unlock it.”
He didn’t.
That told me more than anything else.
Captain Reeves excused himself to make a call.
Master Chief Daniels followed.
That left the four of us alone.
Dad immediately turned on me.
“Fix this.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Ryan created this problem.”
“He just finished the hardest training of his life.”
“That doesn’t give him permission to fabricate messages.”
“You’re his sister.”
“Yes.”
“So protect him.”
Ryan stared at the table.
Mom reached for my hand.
I moved it before she could touch me.
“Emily,” she whispered. “Please.”
I looked at Ryan.
“Tell me the truth.”
He said nothing.
“Did you create those messages?”
“No.”
“Did someone else create them?”
Silence.
That answer was different.
I noticed.
“Ryan.”
His jaw tightened.
“Who gave them to you?”
Dad interrupted.
“Stop interrogating him.”
I ignored him.
“Who?”
Ryan finally met my eyes.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“I couldn’t let them find out.”
“Mom and Dad?”
“Anyone.”
My pulse slowed.
“Find out what?”
His eyes flicked toward the closed door.
Then he whispered:
“That I used your name.”
I sat back.
My mother frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Ryan covered his face with both hands.
Dad grabbed his shoulder.
“Son?”
Ryan pulled away.
“I needed an edge.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Selection.”
Something inside me went still.
“You told people I recommended you?”
He said nothing.
“Ryan.”
“Yes.”
Mom exhaled.
“Oh, that’s all?”
I looked at her in disbelief.
“That’s not all.”
Ryan stood abruptly.
“I didn’t know it would become this big.”
“How big?”
“At first, I just told one instructor that you worked with Naval Special Warfare.”
“That’s true.”
“Then he asked who you were.”
“And?”
Ryan began pacing.
“I said Commander Carter.”
I waited.
“That alone wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I may have implied you had personally recommended me.”
I closed my eyes.
God.
“Did you forge a letter?”
No answer.
“Ryan, did you forge my signature?”
His eyes filled with tears.
Dad whispered, “Jesus.”
Ryan sat down again.
“I was struggling.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Yes.”
My mother started crying.
I felt nothing.
Not yet.
The shock was too clean.
“How many?”
“One letter.”
“Who received it?”
He rubbed both palms over his face.
“A former instructor.”
“Name.”
“Chief Benton.”
I knew the name vaguely.
“Did the letter affect your selection?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know.”
“I was already qualified.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He slammed his fist against the table.
“I earned this!”
“I never said you didn’t.”
“You’re acting like I stole it.”
“You stole my name.”
He stared at me.
For a moment, we were children again.
Ryan wanting something.
Me being expected to give it up because I was older.
Only this time it wasn’t a toy.
It was fourteen years of service.
My reputation.
My signature.
My word.
Then Ryan said something worse.
“There were two letters.”
My stomach tightened.
“Two?”
“The first one helped me get an interview.”
“And the second?”
He looked toward the window.
“The second wasn’t for me.”
I waited.
“Who was it for?”
“My friend.”
“What friend?”
“Cole Mercer.”
I knew that name.
Every officer in our community knew it.
Three months earlier, Cole Mercer had been removed from training after a serious safety incident.
An incident that had injured another sailor.
An incident where somebody had claimed a senior intelligence officer had vouched for Mercer’s judgment.
My blood went cold.
“Ryan.”
He began crying.
“I didn’t know what Cole was going to do.”
“What did you sign?”
“Emily—”
“What did you sign?”
He whispered:
“A character memorandum.”
The door opened.
Captain Reeves entered with two investigators.
One held a folder.
Reeves looked at Ryan.
Then at me.
“Commander Carter, there’s something you need to see.”
The investigator opened the folder and placed a photocopied memorandum on the table.
At the bottom was my name.
My rank.
And a signature designed to look exactly like mine.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
The date on the memorandum was eight months earlier.
May you like
During those eight months, someone had used my identity repeatedly.
And judging from the thickness of the folder, Ryan had just admitted to only a fraction of it.
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