the first page.
“Major Alden,” she said, “are you able to speak clearly for the record?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
My voice sounded rough, but it was mine.
A month earlier, even that had been uncertain. I had woken up to machines, white ceiling tiles, a throat raw from tubes, and my mother’s voice on the other side of a privacy curtain.
“She would never want to continue reading …
