Dance asked, “What else? There’s something more, isn’t there?”

A faint laugh. “Yep, here’s the problem. See, my tour was scheduled to be up next month. But I felt so guilty about Pete that I told my CO I’d reenlist.”

Dance was nodding.

“That’s what this ceremony’s about. It’s not about getting wounded. We’re wounded every day. It’s about reenlisting. The army’s having a tough time getting new recruits. They’re going to use the reenlisters as poster children for the new army. We like it so much we want to go back. That sort of thing.”

“And you’re having second thoughts?”

She nodded. “It’s driving me crazy. I can’t sleep. I can’t make love to my husband. I can’t do anything. . . . I’m lonely, I’m afraid. I miss my family. But I also know we’re doing something important over there, something good for a lot of people. I can’t decide. I simply can’t decide.”

“What would happen if you told them you changed your mind?”

“I don’t know. They’d be pissed probably. But we’re not talking court-martial. It’s more my problem. I’d be disappointing people. I’d be backing down from something. Which I’ve never done in my life. I’d be breaking a promise.”

Dance thought for a moment, sipping the water. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I will say one thing: My job is finding the truth. Most everybody I deal with are perps—criminals. They know the truth and they’re lying to save their butts. But there’re also a lot of people I come across who lie to themselves. And usually they don’t even know it.

“But whether you’re deceptive to the cops or your mother or husband or friends or yourself, the symptoms’re always the same. You’re stressed, angry, depressed. Lies turn people ugly. The truth does the opposite. . . . Of course, sometimes it seems like the truth is the last thing we want. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten a suspect to confess and he gives me this look, it’s like pure relief in his face. The weirdest thing: Sometimes they even say thanks.”

“You’re saying I know the truth?”

“Oh, yeah. You do. It’s there. Covered up real good. And you might not like it when you find it. But it’s there.”

“How do I find it? Interrogate myself?”

“You know, that’s a great way to put it. Sure, what you do is look for the same things I look for: anger, depression, denial, excuses, rationalization. When do you feel that way and why? What’s behind this feeling or that one? And don’t let yourself get away with anything. Keep at it. You’ll find out what you really want.”

Lucy Richter leaned forward and hugged Dance—something very few subjects ever did.

The soldier smiled. “Hey, got an idea. Let’s write a self-help book. The Girl’s Guide to Self-Interrogation. It’ll be a best seller.”

“In all our free time.” Dance laughed.

They tapped the water bottles together with a ring.