Chapter 12 - The Paper He Stole
Brody didn't deny it.
That was the part I couldn't get past.
He stood beside my car with tears on his face, looking at me as though he expected me to hit him.
Maybe he deserved it.
Maybe he expected anger because anger would be easier than the disappointment he saw in my eyes.
I took a breath.
"Explain."
He swallowed.
"Erin—"
"No."
I shook my head.
"You're going to tell me exactly what you took."
He wiped his face.
"It was a folder."
"Whose folder?"
"Dwayne's."
I stared at him.
"He'd brought it to the hospital."
Brody nodded.
"It had witness statements and a draft recommendation."
"And you stole it."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He closed his eyes.
"Because I was scared."
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I was so tired of that answer.
Everybody had been scared.
Dad was scared of losing Charlene.
Charlene was scared of losing her precious image of Brody.
Martin was scared of losing his job.
Brody was scared of losing his reputation.
And somehow, I was the person who'd been expected to make all their fear bearable.
I stepped closer.
"What did you think would happen if I got that medal?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Try."
He looked at me.
"I thought people would ask questions."
"About the river?"
"Yes."
"About the gate?"
He nodded.
I stared at him.
"So you decided I didn't deserve to be recognized."
"No."
His voice broke.
"I knew you deserved it."
"Then what?"
"I thought if the recommendation went away, people would stop talking about that night."
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
"What did you do with the folder?"
He lowered his eyes.
"I put it in my duffel bag."
"And?"
"I kept it."
"For how long?"
"Almost a year."
I felt something tighten in my chest.
"What happened after that?"
"I mailed it to Dad."
I stared at him.
"Dad?"
"He was asking about it."
"Why?"
Brody looked away.
"He said Dwayne had been trying to restart the award recommendation."
I closed my eyes.
Of course Dwayne had.
The man I'd pulled out of the water had spent years trying to make sure I wasn't forgotten.
While my own family had spent those same years trying to bury the truth.
I opened my eyes.
"What did Dad do with it?"
Brody shook his head.
"I don't know."
I thought of the storage unit.
The file cabinet.
The folder marked with my name.
"Did he put it with the other papers?"
"Maybe."
I stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Brody's face twisted.
"Because every year it got harder."
I stepped backward.
"That's the thing about lying."
He looked at me.
"It doesn't get easier to fix just because you waited longer."
He nodded.
"I know."
I shook my head.
"No."
My voice broke.
"You keep saying that."
Tears burned behind my eyes.
"But you don't know what it was like."
I pointed toward my arm.
"Do you know how many people asked me whether I was exaggerating my injury?"
He didn't answer.
"Do you know how many times I heard your mother tell people you were the hero?"
His lips trembled.
"Do you know what it feels like to watch somebody receive praise for the night you almost died saving him?"
Brody began crying harder.
I took a breath.
"And then you find out that he actually took the paperwork that could've corrected everything."
I couldn't look at him anymore.
I turned toward my car.
"Erin."
I stopped.
"I'm sorry."
I gripped the door handle.
"I believe you."
He went quiet.
I looked back.
"I believe you're sorry."
His eyes filled with something that looked like hope.
I continued.
"But being sorry doesn't make you safe for me to trust."
The hope vanished.
I got into my car.
And drove away.
That night, I returned to the storage unit with Dwayne.
We searched every box.
Every drawer.
Every folder.
After almost two hours, I found it.
A manila envelope at the bottom of the cabinet.
Its original label had been scratched out.
Beneath the ink, I could still make out three words.
Soldier's Medal Recommendation.
My hands began trembling.
I opened it.
Inside were the witness accounts.
Dwayne's.
Eli's.
A medic's statement.
And the initial recommendation.
The pages were yellowed.
Some were water-stained.
But they were there.
Dwayne stared at the folder.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then he sat down on an old wooden chair.
"Well, I'll be damned."
I looked at him.
"You wrote this?"
He nodded.
"Six years ago."
I turned the pages.
His statement was detailed.
It described the flood.
The first rescue.
The second.
The third.
The final trip into the water.
Then I reached the last paragraph.
Lieutenant Lennox repeatedly placed herself in extreme danger to save fellow soldiers, continuing rescue efforts after sustaining a severe injury.
My throat tightened.
Dwayne watched me.
"I meant every word."
I looked down.
"Why didn't you tell me this was missing?"
He sighed.
"I didn't know Brody had it."
"Didn't somebody notice?"
"Of course."
He rubbed his forehead.
"When it disappeared, we tried to reconstruct the packet."
I stared at him.
"What happened?"
"Transfers."
He shook his head.
"Personnel changes. Medical records. Different commands."
I looked back at the pages.
He continued.
"The official recommendation that eventually went forward was assembled from new witness statements and surviving records."
I nodded slowly.
So Brody had interfered.
Badly.
But the missing folder wasn't the only reason the award had taken six years.
That distinction mattered.
I wasn't going to exaggerate what he'd done.
The truth was already painful enough.
Dwayne leaned forward.
"Erin."
I looked up.
"That packet could've helped us move faster."
I swallowed.
"I know."
He stared at the floor.
"And knowing somebody deliberately kept it from us makes me angry."
I closed the folder.
"Me, too."
Dwayne stood.
"Are you going to report it?"
I looked at him.
"Yes."
"Good."
I stared at the envelope.
"But first I want to know whether Dad knew."
We found the answer in a smaller envelope tucked inside the back cover.
A handwritten note.
Dad's writing.
Brody returned this to me after admitting he took it.
I felt my chest tighten.
The next sentence was worse.
I should have sent it immediately.
I closed my eyes.
Dad had known.
He had known Brody interfered with the paperwork.
And once again, he'd chosen to keep the peace.
I unfolded the rest of the note.
I have contacted Dwayne and confirmed that a new recommendation is being prepared.
I looked up.
Dwayne nodded.
"He called me."
"When?"
"About four years ago."
I stared at him.
"He didn't tell you Brody had taken the original packet?"
"No."
Dwayne's face hardened.
"He said he'd found old copies among your medical paperwork."
I looked down at the note.
Dad had tried to correct part of the damage.
Quietly.
Without confronting Brody.
Without telling me.
It was the most Dad-like thing I could imagine.
A partial repair.
A carefully managed truth.
An apology delivered to everyone except the person he had hurt.
I sat on the floor beside the cabinet.
For several minutes, I couldn't speak.
Then Dwayne lowered himself into the chair beside me.
"Your dad loved you."
I looked at him.
He continued.
"I know that doesn't fix anything."
I stared at the papers.
"He loved Brody, too."
"Yeah."
I swallowed.
"But he kept asking me to prove my love by giving things up."
Dwayne didn't answer.
I looked at the old recommendation.
"Maybe he thought I'd survive it."
Dwayne's face softened.
"You did survive."
I looked toward him.
He shook his head.
"But that doesn't mean it was fair to ask."
Something inside me finally gave way.
I cried.
Not the quiet tears I'd shed at Martin's kitchen table.
Not the controlled tears I'd wiped away after hearing Dad's recording.
I cried until my chest hurt.
Until I couldn't breathe properly.
Until Dwayne moved a box beside me so I could lean against it.
He didn't tell me to be strong.
He didn't tell me to forgive anyone.
He just sat there.
After a while, my phone rang.
Margaret Ellis.
I wiped my face.
"Hello?"
"Erin, I've reviewed the documents Leah sent."
I sat upright.
"And?"
"There's a problem with the county's records."
I closed my eyes.
"Another one?"
"Yes."
She paused.
"But this one concerns a recent document."
My pulse quickened.
"What document?"
"The inspection schedule."
I frowned.
"What about it?"
"The county issued a work order for Blackwater Creek yesterday."
"To inspect the gate?"
"No."
Her voice hardened.
"To remove the old control assembly."
I stared at Dwayne.
Margaret continued.
"The order was marked urgent."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"That's what we're trying to determine."
I looked at the faded photograph in my lap.
The broken gate.
The water.
Brody's pale face.
Mason's mother waiting for answers.
May you like
Then Margaret said:
"Erin, the crew is scheduled to start dismantling it tomorrow morning."
