A Mother's Sword

iffany Caldwell and her senator father were using to bury the truth deeper. She moved with a stiff, painful grace, each breath a reminder of her fracture

wave of grief so powerful it buckled her knees washed over her, and she leaned against the doorframe, gasping for air. For a moment, she was just a mother, b

ould not let Michael' s memory be

irm, and requested a copy of the accident report. The desk s

the investigation is ongoi

y?" Eleanor asked, ke

e said, a clear dismis

d. The senator had already sealed

o had helped her and her husband manage their modest savings. She instructed him to s

ht?" he asked, concern in his

she said, her voice betraying no emotion.

lded the flag from his funeral. Lastly, she went to the local funeral home. The arrangements had been made with a swift, cold efficiency she s

final, crushing sorrow, but a surge of streng

was an unknown nu

ional, and dripping with condescension. "The senator understands this is a difficult time for you. He wants

Eleanor asked,

of your life. All it requires is your signature on a non-disclosure agreement

forget my son was killed," Elea

end. "It was a tragic accident, Mrs. V

compassion," Eleanor said.

r warned, his tone shifting, becoming harder. "And often, unsat

ances," Eleanor

ld buy off and intimidate. They had no idea who they wer

dow, the urn of her son' s ashes on her lap, the box with her husband' s medals at her feet. She didn't s

d who looked to be Michael' s age tried to offer her a sandwich, a kind smile on her face. Eleanor simply shook her head

this to happen. She was angry at the powerful who believed they were go

e city. The Capitol Dome was visible in the distance, a symbol of the very power that had crushed

etween a nation and its soldiers.