Returning from a classified military assignment, I found my five-year-old daughter kneeling on the cold floor. A strange woman stood over her, saying, “This is the only way spoiled children learn.” She didn’t know I was a special operations officer, and she was about to find out…

autopsy of your entire existence.”

His expression faltered. I watched the grim realization begin to spread across his features. It moved slowly, agonizingly, like a toxic, black dawn creeping over a devastated battlefield.

“Evelyn…” he cautioned, raising a placating hand.

“For ten years, Grant, you have spent every waking hour wondering how a lowly government continue reading …