For the first time since the ceremony, I believed he understood that protecting his company and protecting its reputation were different acts.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We’ve stopped shipments from that order. We’re replacing the assemblies under independent supervision. We may lose contracts. We may lose more than that.”
“And Blake?”
“He’s been removed from his role. The investigators will decide what follows.”
I glanced toward the lobby windows. People passed outside, carrying coffee and talking about ordinary things.
“Lorraine?” I asked.
“She’s angry with me for giving them his records.”
“He’s her son.”
“He is.” Victor swallowed. “I understand why she’s angry. I gave them the records anyway.”
I thought of how quickly he had told me to act like a stranger outside the White House. He had been willing to deny one child in public while trusting the other with his company. Now both choices had consequences he could not buy his way out of.
Victor held out the folder.
“You should have these.”
I took it. The paper felt unexpectedly heavy.
There were birthday cards, notes written after promotions, and a letter I had sent when I first took command. I remembered composing that one in a field tent, using a flashlight because the power had failed.
On its envelope, I had written I thought you would want to know.
Victor followed my gaze.
“I would have,” he said.
“You could have found out.”
“Yes.”
He did not ask me to make that answer easier for him.
For several moments we stood without speaking. Then he looked at the medal ribbon on my uniform.
“I saw Ruiz at the ceremony,” he said. “I learned what happened to her convoy.”
“She’s recovering.”
