“It’s a matter of survival some days.”

He laughed and shut the door.

Sarah leaned back and closed her eyes, already tired from the walk to the car, but she couldn’t put this off any longer. Dustin’s death had left so many unanswered questions rolling around in her head. And that poor woman’s cries were haunting her. She had to see if there was anything she could do to help her.

Assuming she could even find her.

And she wanted to know who Dustin’s last visitors had been, what they’d talked about, if he’d made any phone calls, gotten any emails or text messages. Because if Dustin had truly jumped off the roof of the hospital under his own power, she had to know what the trigger had been to make him do it.

Caden stood in front of his father’s desk in the house he’d grown up in, once again feeling like a twelve-year-old and trying not to show it. He waited until the general looked up with a raised brow. “Can I help you with something?”

“You got her discharged from the Army.”

“I did.” The man didn’t even blink and Caden bit off a scoff.

“Why?”

“She doesn’t have what it takes to make the Army her career. I managed to save her reputation by getting her an honorable discharge.”

“Her reputation didn’t need saving. She’s one of the most highly respected journalists over there. She speaks the language, she has a relationship with the locals—and she writes the facts. People who don’t trust their own family members trust her. And she’s not suicidal.”

“She has PTSD.”

“Yeah, well, you would too if you went through what she’s experienced, but using your clout to get her discharged wasn’t your call—and not really something I thought you were capable of.”

“I was trying to save her life!” The words burst from his father’s lips, a momentary loosening of his iron-clad self-control.

“It’s not your life to save,” Caden said, purposely lowering his voice. “She’s an adult. A very smart and capable one, if you’d open your eyes and take a good hard look at her.”

“You know how she was in high school. She’s not capable of looking out for herself. And since you baby her, I have to take measures to make sure she’s safe.”

“I accept her. Sarah is who she is. She’s not who she was. That was a long time ago. She’s forgiven herself for all of that. At least I think she has. But if you ever want her to speak to you again, you need to undo what you’ve done.”