Damon didn't answer right away. When he finally set the photo down, his voice was hollow. "That's Ethan. And I watched him die."
Clara didn't cry. Instead, she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper, worn soft from years of handling. She smoothed it open on the table. It was a handwritten note, dated three months before Ethan supposedly died.
"If you ever see that patch again, Mama, it means somebody finally came back for me."
Damon told his road captain to call Nevada and postpone their trip. Then, he pulled out a chair at Clara's kitchen table and sat down.
"Tell me everything," he said. "From the beginning."
Ethan Bennett had come home from his second tour changed. Not broken, Clara was careful to say, but changed. He had started paying attention to things in Red Hollow that most people had long stopped questioning. Specifically, a veteran support fund that the county had received federal money for—money that had never reached a single veteran's family.
Ethan had gone to the county office and was turned away. He went back and was threatened. Two months later, a story appeared in the Red Hollow Gazette tying his name and face to an armed robbery at a Route 9 gas station.
Clara pulled the clipping from her Bible. Damon studied the date, read the article, and sat back.
"Clara," Damon said quietly. "This article was published two days before the robbery was supposed to have happened."
"I know," she replied. "I noticed that the week it ran. I went to the sheriff's office. He told me I was confused."