Chapter 5 - The Road to Scranton
The highway stretched ahead through the winding valleys of Virginia and into the rolling hills of Pennsylvania, rain slicking the blacktop as twilight set in. I drove my dark sedan, the hum of the engine a steady rhythm against the quiet fury that had settled between us. Julian sat in the passenger seat, his eyes tracking the tree line with the restless vigilance of an operator who had spent too many nights expecting an ambush.
On the back seat lay our dress uniforms, hanging neatly inside protective bags, along with the manila folder that held the devastation of our family's mythos.
"How long have you known?" I asked, breaking the silence that had lasted since we crossed the Pennsylvania state line.
Julian rested his elbow on the door frame, his jaw tight. "Two years. When I was going through my Tier-One vetting, the background investigators pulled the complete lineage tree. The investigator was an old Master Chief who had served with Grandfather. He called me into his office, shut the door, and handed me the microfilm. He said, 'Your dad didn't fail a medical board, son. He failed a character test.'"
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. All those years. All those biting remarks at the dinner table.
*“Nora, you work in an office. Stop acting like you command a warship.”*
*“Plenty of people get scholarships, Nora. Don’t get a swollen head.”*
*“We’re not driving nine hours just to clap at some ridiculous little ceremony.”*
Every barb, every snide chuckle, every intentional absence had not been about me. It had never been about my supposed insignificance. It was the frantic, desperate projection of an insecure man who saw his daughter climbing the mountain he had been kicked down forty years prior.
"And Grandfather's medals?" I asked, my voice tight. "He told us Grandfather left them to him in his will."
"Grandfather disowned Howard before he died in ninety-four," Julian said, his voice flat. "The will explicitly left the officer’s sword, the Navy Cross, and the personal logs to Grandfather's eldest grandchild who joined the naval service. That was you, Nora. Dad hid the will. He took the footlocker from Grandfather's estate before the probate attorney could inventory it. Mom helped him do it."
A sickening knot formed in my stomach. "Grandfather left them to me?"
"To you," Julian confirmed. "Dad kept that shadow box over the fireplace as a trophy of a lie. He drank at the VFW every Memorial Day, nodding along when old men thanked him for his 'sacrifice,' letting people assume he was an injured veteran. He built his entire reputation in that small town on Grandfather's shadow and a fabricated tragedy."
I looked at the dashboard clock: 11:42 PM. We were less than two hours outside Scranton.
"What do you think they’re doing right now?" I asked.
May you like
Julian turned his head toward me, a cold, hard glint in his eyes. "Panicking. Howard has lived forty years terrified that the world would find out who he really is. By dawn, he's going to realize that the bill has finally come due."
***
