In the conference room, the board president — a lieutenant colonel with a soft gut and hard eyes — glanced at her AGSU, then at her cane.
“I have to,” Elena replied, stepping into the trousers. They fit looser now. The deployment had melted ten pounds off her. She tucked in the shirt, then fumbled with the brass buttons on the coat. Each one clicked into place like a small, final decision.
“But,” he continued, “I’m going to recommend an upgrade to a Meritorious Service Medal for your actions that day. Someone should have done it years ago.”
The AGSU hung in the back of Corporal Elena Vasquez’s closet for three years. Olive green, crisp wool-blend, with a tie she never learned to knot properly. She’d worn it exactly twice: once at her basic training graduation, once at a promotion board she failed.