Chapter 25 - THE INSIGNIA
Dad’s insignia sat in my jewelry box for eleven years.
Through grief.
Marriage.
Trial.
Divorce.
Appeal.
New apartment.
Townhouse.
One afternoon I took it out.
The red enamel chip was still missing.
For years I had imagined it lodged in Gregory’s SUV grille.
No physical fragment ever survived to prove that.
The repair note remained suggestive.
Not certain.
Did it matter now?
No.
The case had been proven without making the insignia magical evidence.
Good.
I took it to Marcus.
“Do you want this?”
He held it.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Tom gave it to you.”
“Police gave it to me.”
“He wore it because he was sentimental.”
“Dad denied being sentimental.”
“Tom lied.”
I smiled.
Marcus turned it over.
“You know he hated when people called these things medals.”
“I know.”
“It’s a unit crest.”
“I know.”
“You used to call it his little shield.”
“I was six.”
“Accurate enough.”
I took it home.
Not a crime artifact.
A family object.
That evening Owen helped me repair a cabinet hinge.
He saw the crest.
“That your dad’s?”
“Yes.”
“Army?”
“Yes.”
He did not ask whether Gregory recognized it.
I appreciated that.
I placed it back in the box.
Beside earrings.
A watch battery.
Old coins.
No spotlight.
Objects shrink when life grows around them.
Then I received notice:
Gregory’s first parole review would occur eighteen months later.
Earlier than I had emotionally expected due credit rules.
Still lawful.
Still structured.
My body disagreed.
Nightmares returned.
I increased therapy temporarily.
Changed nothing else impulsively.
No moving states.
No quitting work.
No private investigator.
No confronting anyone.
I had learned.
I submitted updated information.
The board reviewed:
Original offense.
Manslaughter.
Leaving scene.
Domestic assault.
Financial fraud.
Prison discipline.
Treatment.
Risk assessment.
Gregory had no major infractions.
Completed programs.
Worked in facility library.
Apologized in written record without minimizing.
That mattered.
It did not guarantee release.
At the hearing, I appeared remotely.
I said:
“I believe people can change. I also believe Gregory’s violence emerged when other people resisted his control. Any release plan should address that specifically.”
No demand.
No forgiveness.
The parole board denied release at first review.
Reason:
Need for longer demonstrated behavioral stability and stronger reentry plan.
Next eligibility later.
I turned off the computer.
Owen asked:
“How do you feel?”
“Relieved.”
“Anything else?”
“Sad.”
“For him?”
“Maybe.”
He nodded.
No correction.
Complicated emotions are not unsafe.
That night I opened the jewelry box.
Saw Dad’s insignia.
Closed it again.
May you like
I did not need him watching over me.
I could sleep on my own.
