Nobody from my family came to my wedding. Weeks later, Dad texted, “Need $8,400 for your brother’s wedding.” I sent $1 with “Best wishes,” then told my husband to change the locks. Our payback came soon after—Dad showed up with the cops.
I am Nola Flores, thirty-two years old, and I am a Commander in the United States Navy SEALs. I have been trained to endure freezing surf, sleep deprivation, and the kind of psychological pressure that breaks ordinary men. But nothing in the BUD/S manual prepared me for the silence of a historic Episcopal church in Virginia.
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