Chapter 11 - The Woman Who Risked EverythingRebecca Collins was alive.
For the first time in days, I felt genuine relief.
But relief quickly gave way to concern when Agent Bennett explained the circumstances.
Rebecca had gone into hiding after receiving threats involving her family.
Investigators were still determining who was responsible.
She had been afraid to trust anyone.
Even the people trying to help her.
The recovery team located her after following information from the prepaid phone and checking several possible locations.
She was exhausted, frightened, and in need of medical attention.
But she was safe.
And so was her daughter.
I asked Bennett whether Rebecca needed anything.
“Her immediate needs are being addressed, Admiral.”
“Good.”
I paused.
“Please tell her I'm sorry I missed her call.”
Bennett's voice softened.
“I'll pass that along when it's appropriate.”
That afternoon, after the emergency response at Harbor Point stabilized, I sat alone in my office.
I kept thinking about Rebecca's message.
I don't know who else to trust.
I'd spent years believing that being strong meant handling everything myself.
But Rebecca's situation reminded me that strength could also mean recognizing when someone needed help.
I hadn't answered her call.
I couldn't change that.
But I could learn from it.
The next day, Bennett contacted me again.
“Rebecca asked whether she could speak with you briefly.”
“Is that appropriate?”
“With the necessary safeguards. She won't discuss evidence or ongoing investigative details.”
“I understand.”
The conversation was arranged through her attorney.
When Rebecca appeared on the screen, I barely recognized her.
Her usually neat hair was pulled back.
Dark circles surrounded her eyes.
But when she saw me, she smiled.
“Amelia.”
“Rebecca.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I said:
“I'm sorry.”
Her smile faded.
“For what?”
“For not answering when you needed me.”
She shook her head.
“You had no way of knowing what was happening.”
“I should have called back.”
“Maybe. But the people responsible for what happened are the ones who made those choices.”
I swallowed.
“How's your daughter?”
“Safe.”
“I'm glad.”
Rebecca looked down.
“I was so scared.”
I waited.
“Not for myself,” she continued. “For her.”
“You did what you thought would protect her.”
“I kept telling myself someone would listen eventually.”
I leaned closer.
“People are listening now.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I never wanted to hurt your father.”
“I know.”
“He gave me a job when I needed one. He helped my husband after his accident. For years, I thought he was a good man.”
I said nothing.
“Maybe he was, in some ways,” she continued. “That's what made everything so difficult.”
I understood.
People rarely fit neatly into the categories we want to assign them.
My father had been cruel to me.
He had also helped employees during hard times.
Grant had been arrogant and selfish.
He had also once stayed up all night helping our mother when she was sick.
Good deeds didn't erase wrongdoing.
Wrongdoing didn't eliminate the possibility of change.
But change required accountability.
Rebecca wiped her eyes.
“Amelia, there's something I want you to remember.”
“What?”
“Your grandfather was right about you.”
My breath caught.
“Rebecca—”
“He told me years ago that you'd become someone who could stand up to powerful people without becoming cruel.”
I looked away.
“He said that?”
She smiled faintly.
“He was very proud of you.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Rebecca added:
“And he was worried about Leonard.”
I looked back.
“What do you mean?”
“Your father wasn't always like this.”
I frowned.
“He wasn't?”
“He was ambitious. Stubborn. Sometimes arrogant. But there was a time when he cared deeply about the workers.”
“What changed?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“I think he became afraid of losing everything.”
That sounded painfully familiar.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Your father made choices that hurt people. He needs to face those choices.”
“I agree.”
“But Amelia…”
“Yes?”
“Don't let what he did turn you into someone who believes people can never change.”
The conversation ended shortly afterward.
I sat quietly for a long time.
Then Sarah entered.
“Admiral, the Harbor Point engineering report is complete.”
“What does it say?”
“The structural defects are consistent with the installation of materials that didn't meet the approved specifications.”
I nodded grimly.
“What about responsibility?”
“That's for investigators and the appropriate legal authorities to determine.”
“Exactly.”
Sarah hesitated.
“There's another development.”
“What?”
“Senator Caldwell has issued a public statement denying any improper involvement.”
I looked at her.
“That isn't surprising.”
“No, ma'am.”
She handed me a tablet.
“But the statement includes an allegation about you.”
I read it.
Caldwell had publicly questioned whether my family connection compromised the military response.
He suggested that I might be using my position to settle personal grievances.
I felt my jaw tighten.
Then I saw the final paragraph.
May you like
The senator was calling for a formal review of my actions.
And he had requested that I be removed from the Harbor Point response immediately.
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