Chapter 3 - Captain Torres Avoids My Eyes in the Hallway
The military police transport vehicle smelled of stale coffee and industrial disinfectant as we drove toward the installation gate.
I sat upright in the back seat, staring straight ahead at the metal partition separating me from the front.
My mind raced through every possible scenario, trying to piece together how my own family had orchestrated this nightmare.
They hadn't just cut me out of their will; they had planned a calculated trap to destroy my career and reputation.
Planting a firearm in my apartment required intimate knowledge of where I kept my spare couch cushions arranged.
Only someone who had searched my living room during their 5 A.M. rampage could have known where to slide it.
When we arrived at the military police station, Captain Torres finally turned around to address me directly.
“Erin, if this weapon tests positive for your prints or DNA, your career in the United States Army is finished,” she warned quietly.
“It won't test positive, Captain, because I’ve never touched that specific firearm in my life,” I answered without blinking.
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She studied my face for a long, agonizing moment before turning away and walking out into the bright squad room.
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