CHAPTER 3: THE RECKONING
Three days later.
The physical recovery was a slow, brutal process, but Major Rebecca Collins was no longer in the trauma ward. She had been moved to a private room in the naval hospital on base, where military security stood guard outside her door twenty-four hours a day.
She wore a clean operational camouflage uniform top over her chest binder and brace, her left arm secured in a high-tech sling. Her face was still marked by severe deep-tissue bruising, but her eyes were bright, clear, and sharp.
A knock came at the door. Sergeant Miller, her military guard, stepped in.
“Major, there are two individuals in the lobby demanding to see you. They don’t have military clearance, but they claim to be your parents. Local civilian authorities permitted them onto the base perimeter under escort because they claimed it was an extreme family emergency.”
Rebecca looked down at her hands. Her right hand was steady. “Let them in, Sergeant. But stay inside the room.”
“Understood, Ma’am.”
A moment later, Arthur and Eleanor Collins rushed into the room.
In just seventy-two hours, Rebecca’s parents had aged ten years. Arthur’s hair was unkempt, his expensive suit rumpled and stained at the cuffs. Eleanor had red, swollen eyes, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she clutched a knockoff designer handbag. They looked desperate, broken, and terrified—a stark contrast to the cold, dismissive figures who had hung up on her while she lay bleeding in a hospital bed.
“Rebecca!” Eleanor cried out, rushing toward the bed, her arms outstretched in a theatrical display of maternal grief. “Oh my god, my poor baby! Look what he did to you!”
“Stop right there, Eleanor,” Rebecca said. Her voice was not loud, but it had the weight of an iron curtain dropping.
Eleanor froze in her tracks, her hands hovering in the air.
“Rebecca, please,” Arthur pleaded, stepping forward, his voice cracking. “You have to fix this! It’s a total disaster! The bank has frozen all our personal accounts! There are process servers standing outside our house! The contractors are threatening to strip the building materials off The Grand View site! If you don’t sign the reinstatement papers by tomorrow morning, we lose everything! The house, our savings, our reputation… everything!”
Rebecca looked at her father. She didn’t feel anger. She didn’t feel hatred. She felt a profound, vast emptiness where her filial loyalty used to reside.
“Where were you three days ago, Arthur?” she asked softly.
Arthur blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Three days ago,” Rebecca repeated, leaning back against her pillows. “I was lying in an intensive care unit with a broken arm, three cracked ribs, a neck trauma, and internal bleeding. I called you. I begged you for a place to stay for just three days so I wouldn’t be murdered in my own home.”
“Rebecca, you don’t understand—” Eleanor began to sob.
“No, Eleanor, you don’t understand,” Rebecca cut her off sharply. “Do you remember what you said to me? You told me I was always dramatic. And then Arthur took the phone.”
She turned her icy gaze directly onto her father.
“You told me that if I left my abusive husband, I shouldn’t come crawling back to you. You laughed and said if I could handle a combat zone, I could handle one argument at home.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I… I didn’t know it was that bad! Daniel called us first! He said you lost your mind! We thought it was just a minor marital spat!”
“You didn’t care to ask,” Rebecca said quietly. “You didn’t ask if I was okay. You didn’t ask what hospital I was in. You didn’t ask why your daughter—who spent fourteen years taking bullets and shrapnel for this country—was calling her parents in tears. You didn’t care because Daniel was funding your golf club memberships, and my federal signature was paying for your luxury retirement fantasy.”
“We are your family!” Eleanor shrieked, dropping her composure, her face contorting into rage. “How can you be so cruel?! We raised you! We gave you everything! And now you’re throwing us into the street over a mistake?!”
“You didn’t raise a daughter,” Rebecca replied, her tone terrifyingly calm. “You raised an insurance policy. You used my service, my rank, and my sacrifices to build a life you couldn’t afford. And the second I became inconvenient, you threw me to the wolves.”
“Rebecca, please!” Arthur fell to his knees beside the hospital bed, tears finally streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. He reached out to grab her hand, but Sergeant Miller immediately stepped forward, placing a heavy tactical boot between Arthur and the bed.
“Back up, sir,” Sergeant Miller ordered sternly.
“I will lose my home, Rebecca!” Arthur wept, clutching his knees. “I’m sixty-eight years old! I can’t go to prison! I can’t be bankrupt! What will people say?!”
“You should have thought about that before you bet your entire future on the daughter you abandoned,” Rebecca said. She looked at Sergeant Miller. “Sergeant, remove these individuals from my room. They are trespassing on federal property.”
“No! Rebecca! You can’t do this to us! You’re a monster! An ungrateful, heartless monster!” Eleanor screamed as Sergeant Miller physically escorted them toward the door.
“I’m not a monster, Eleanor,” Rebecca said, watching them being pushed into the hallway. “I’m just a soldier who finally stopped protecting the enemy.”
The heavy wooden door clicked shut. The hallway screams faded into silence.
Rebecca took a deep, clear breath. For the first time in three days, her chest didn’t burn quite as much.
Orther Post
They Abandoned The Wrong Daughter
6
Chapters