Chapter 18 - A Brother's Promise
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Six months later.
The morning sun shone brightly over a cozy, three-bedroom house located near the naval base in San Diego, California.
Waves crashed softly against the Pacific coastline in the distance. The air smelled of fresh saltwater and eucalyptus trees.
In the backyard, fifteen-year-old Ethan was sitting at a wooden picnic table, building a complex radio-controlled drone model with Sergeant Vance, who had recently retired from active service to take a civilian security role on our base.
Ethan looked healthier. His cheeks had color, his shoulders were broader, and the constant shadow of fear that used to hang over his eyes was completely gone.
I walked out onto the back patio wearing comfortable civilian jeans and a sweater, carrying two glasses of fresh lemonade.
"Here you go, kiddo," I said, setting a glass down beside his tools.
"Thanks, Maddie," Ethan said, looking up with a grin. "Check this out. Vance helped me calibrate the flight stabilizer. It's ready for its first test flight."
"Just don't crash it into the commander's garden," Vance joked, leaning back with a chuckle.
I sat down beside my brother, watching him adjust the small silver propellers.
"How's school going, Ethan?" I asked gently.
"It's awesome," Ethan replied enthusiastically. "I joined the robotics club. And... nobody at this school knows who my parents are. Nobody looks at me like I'm a trust-fund kid."
"You're just Ethan here," I said, putting my arm around his shoulders. "Just a normal kid."
"Thanks for coming into that courtroom, Maddie," Ethan whispered softly, leaning his head against my shoulder. "Even though you looked terrifying in all that military gear."
I laughed softly, kissing the top of his head. "I'd storm a hundred courtrooms for you, kiddo. Always."
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Life had finally found a peaceful rhythm. The nightmare in Chicago was behind us. My parents were serving life sentences in federal penitentiaries, and Ethan was safe, happy, and free.
Or so I believed—until a sleek black sedan with government plates pulled up to our front driveway.
