Chapter 5 - The Cost of Waiting
Nia submitted the request to amend Ward’s evaluation before she went home.
It identified what she had reviewed, what she had not witnessed, and why her initials should not have supported a finding about the trainee’s judgment.
She attached no accusation she couldn’t establish.
Then she called the course coordinator.
“Can my nomination stay active without Colonel Hale’s endorsement?”
“There may be another route, but we still need the pending review addressed. I can’t hold this seat indefinitely.”
“I understand.”
She didn’t, not emotionally. She had traded weekends for prerequisites, saved leave, and practiced the interview answers until her brother threatened to charge admission.
Now the opportunity could disappear while people decided what had happened in fifteen ugly seconds.
Andre came over with groceries.
He was three years younger, a school-bus mechanic who regarded an empty refrigerator as an accusation against the whole family.
“You look awful,” he said.
“You always know what a woman wants to hear.”
“Good. Then you’ll love the rotisserie chicken.”
He put the bags down and noticed the way she moved her shoulder.
She told him about the clipboard.
For a moment, he went very still.
Then he asked whether the injury had been documented and whether somebody independent knew. He didn’t offer to drive to the base and do anything foolish. That somehow made her want to cry more.
After dinner, she told him about Ward.
Andre listened without rescuing her from the story.
“You’d tell a trainee not to sign something they didn’t check,” he said.
“I know.”
“But you did.”
“I initialed a review. I didn’t certify the tank.”
“I heard you. Does that distinction fix what happened to her?”
Nia stared at her plate.
“No.”
He reached across and moved the salt away from her restless hand.
“Then fix what you can. Eat something while you do it.”
Later, she found a voicemail from Hale.
His voice was quieter than it had been in the hangar.
Eli was improving. The doctors were continuing their evaluation. He wanted to thank her again.
Then came a pause.
“I hope you’ll remember the difference between a difficult morning and a bad man, Brooks. There’s still time for all of us to be sensible.”
She listened a second time.
He hadn’t explicitly threatened her. He hadn’t apologized for striking her either.
She saved the message without assigning it more meaning than it could support.
At the kitchen table, her course application lay beside the request to correct Ward’s record.
One might close a door.
May you like
The other had already closed one for somebody else.
She left both in view.
