My mother-in-law shaved my head while I slept on the very night the United States Army promoted me into one of the most important commands of my career.

A voicemail appeared.

This time it was Ryan.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said. His voice was lower now, less angry, more controlled. That frightened me more. “You think those people at the base care about you? They care about the uniform. When you take it off, you’re just a bald, angry woman with no family. I’m the only person who knows the real you. Drop this before it gets uglier.”

The message ended.

Sarah saved it.

I looked at her. “He always does that.”

“What?”

“Makes isolation sound like truth.”