"Just don't make today about your career," Daniel murmured, adjusting his silk tie with an arrogant flick of his wrist. I stared at my brother. "I'm here to honor Grandpa. That's all I've ever cared about."

I walked away from my family, forcing my posture to remain straight despite the ache in my heart. No matter how many deployments I survived, their words still had a way of cutting deep.

I made my way through the bustling crowd toward the quiet holding room at the back of the auditorium. Sitting in a leather armchair beside a wall of historic medals was my grandfather, Colonel Walter Parker.

At ninety years old, his hair was snow-white, and his frame was frail, but his eyes were sharp and clear. He wore his old dress uniform, pristine and decorated with the Distinguished Service Cross he had earned six decades ago.

When he saw me step through the door, his weathered face broke into a broad, radiant smile.

"Staff Sergeant Parker," he rasped, his voice weak but full of pride. "Reporting for duty."

"Grandpa," I whispered, rushing over and dropping to one knee beside his chair. I gently took his hand. His fingers were frail, but his grip was warm.

"Look at you," Walter said, his eyes scanning my uniform and the ribbons pinned to my chest. He reached out with a trembling finger, lightly touching the small silver star on my ribbons. "You wear it better than I ever did, Maya."

"Dad and Daniel aren't happy," I admitted with a faint, sad smile. "They wanted me in a dress. They think I'm embarrassing the family name."

Walter let out a dry, raspy chuckle that turned into a quiet cough. "Your father is a businessman, Maya. He measures a man's worth by the weight of his wallet. He never understood that the highest calling in this life is sitting on the shoulders of those who serve others."

He squeezed my hand tighter. "They look down on you because they don't understand the price of freedom. But I know what those ribbons mean. I know what you gave up."

"I did it for you, Grandpa," I said softly. "You were the only one who didn't laugh when I enlisted."

"And I'll never stop being proud of you," Walter said. He looked toward the door, where the sound of the growing crowd echoed into the room. "Is the program starting?"

"Soon," I said, checking my watch. It was 1745 hours. Fifteen minutes until the sealed DoD announcement. "Grandpa... there's something you should know about today. Something Dad and Daniel didn't arrange."

Walter raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"The Pentagon modified the schedule weeks ago," I whispered. "There is a special guest arriving."

Before I could explain further, the door opened abruptly. Daniel stepped inside, looking at his watch with annoyance.

"Maya, get out here," Daniel ordered brusquely. "The photographer from the Washington Post wants a family shot with Dad and the board. Grandpa, let's wheel you out to the main stage."