Chapter 61: The Look That Said Too Much
"We are immensely grateful for what you've done," President Mitch said, his handshake firm, his eyes glimmering with restrained emotion. "You didn't just save my daughter, you reminded us all what sacrifice looks like. Thank you."
His words were kind, dignified, wrapped in the air of a leader holding his country and his family together.
Then I saw General Summers.
Sharp as ever in his ceremonial uniform, shoulders square, back like a steel rod. He stood across the hall, flanked by military brass and polished authority. But his eyes—those heavy, seasoned eyes—locked onto mine.
My breath caught.
His gaze didn't blink. Didn't soften. It was like being measured, silently weighed against some invisible standard. I felt my spine straighten, almost instinctively, like I was under inspection.
Then—just as quickly—he looked away. Expression blank. Eyes cold. Dismissed.
I swallowed hard, pulse fluttering in my throat.
