“I saved your life,” she retorted, pulling a chair close. “You’re welcome.”
George managed a weak smile. “Stubborn.”
He pointed to the plastic bag of his personal effects on the bedside table. “My notebook. Get it.”
Aaliyah opened the bag. Inside was a small, leather-bound notebook, water-damaged but intact.
“Take it,” George whispered. “And the envelope inside the cover.”
Aaliyah pulled out a sealed white envelope. On the front, in shaky handwriting, was a name: General Victoria Ashford.
“If I die,” George said, his eyes locking onto hers, “you mail that. You don’t give it to a nurse. You don’t give it to a doctor. You mail it.”
“You’re not going to die,” Aaliyah said.
“Promise me,” he demanded.
“I promise.”
CHAPTER THREE: THE THREE OFFICERS
George Fletcher died four days later.
His heart simply stopped. Aaliyah wasn’t there; she was at work, stocking shelves in aisle four. When the hospital called, she dropped a jar of pasta sauce. It shattered on the linoleum, red spreading like blood.
She went to the funeral. It was just her and a chaplain in a small chapel at the VA. No family. No friends. Just the girl who brought him sandwiches.
She mailed the envelope the next morning.
She almost threw it away. It felt crazy. Mailing a letter from a homeless man to a General at the Pentagon? But she had promised.
Three weeks passed.
Life went back to the brutal normal. Rent was due again. The landlord was threatening eviction again. Aaliyah was tired again.
Then came the knock.
It was 6:00 AM on a Tuesday. Aaliyah was awake, making coffee, out of habit making enough for two before remembering she didn’t need the thermos anymore.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She frowned. The landlord usually didn’t come this early.
She opened the door, tightening the sash of her robe.
She froze.
Standing in her dim, peeling hallway were three men. They were wearing Dress Blues—Army uniforms with medals that caught the hallway light. The man in the center had a bird on his shoulder. A Colonel.
“Aaliyah Cooper?” the Colonel asked. His voice was deep, authoritative.
“Yes?” Aaliyah squeaked.
“I am Colonel Hayes. This is Captain Miller and Lieutenant Vance. We are here on behalf of the Office of the Inspector General.”
Aaliyah’s heart hammered. “I didn’t do anything. Is this about my student loans?”
