The night of the gala was cold, one of those December evenings where the world looked like it had been kissed by frost. You stood outside the ballroom doors with Bandit sitting patiently beside you, his dark coat gleaming under the golden light spilling from the chandeliers inside. His little tuxedo harness had been Mia’s idea — she said he looked “classy and intimidating.” You agreed. Bandit was your anchor, your shadow, and your last connection to Ellie.

You swallowed hard before walking in. The soft hum of music and the clinking of champagne glasses filled the room. You could already feel the eyes — polite, curious glances from people who recognized your last name, or maybe the dog tags resting against your collarbone. You had thought about leaving them at home, but it didn’t feel right. They were a part of you. A part of her.

Mia spotted you before you spotted her — loud, radiant, impossible to miss. She wore a flowing red dress that shimmered under the lights and rushed over, wrapping you in a tight hug. “You look amazing!” she said, pulling back to get a full look at you. “Ellie would be drooling if she were here.”

You tried to smile, but it came out a little shaky. “She’s… busy.”

Mia’s expression softened, but before she could say anything, Bandit let out a low, protective rumble as someone brushed past. You gave his leash a light tug, whispering in Dutch, “Rustig, jongen.” Easy, boy. He instantly settled, though his sharp eyes followed every movement in the room.

For a moment, you let yourself enjoy the music, the smell of champagne, and the laughter bubbling around you. But then you saw her — in the corner, half-hidden by the glimmering lights and crowd.

An older woman with sharp features, a faded scar running over her eye, and arms like steel wrapped in silk. Her uniform jacket fit perfectly, decorated with medals that glittered like stars. She stood with perfect posture, surveying the room like she could command it with a single word.

“Who’s that?” you asked Mia quietly.

Mia followed your gaze and immediately grinned. “Oh no, don’t tell me that look. You’ve got that ‘intrigued and confused’ face again.”

You blinked. “What look?”

“That’s General Dina Woodward,” Mia said, lowering her voice dramatically. “The Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

You frowned. “The joint what now?”

Mia sighed, exasperated. “The Joint Chiefs of Staff — basically, she’s one of the most powerful people in the U.S. military. Like… the boss of all the bosses. How do you not know that?”

You shrugged helplessly. “I’m a housewife, Mia. Ellie was the one with all the medals.”

Mia grinned again, linking her arm with yours. “Well, lucky for you, I know people. Come on, I’m introducing you.”

You barely had time to protest before Mia was dragging you across the floor, your heels clicking against the marble, Bandit trotting beside you with his head high and eyes alert.

“General Woodward!” Mia chirped, stopping just short of the older woman. “This is my best friend — the one I told you about who’s married to General Ellie Williams.”

Your breath caught. The woman turned to look at you fully now — her eyes were sharp, like she could see straight through every layer you’d built to protect yourself. There was strength in her stare, but also something softer beneath it.

Her scar caught the light when she smiled faintly. “Williams’ wife?” she said, her voice low, steady, commanding. “I’ve heard that name plenty of times.”

You nodded awkwardly, clutching Bandit’s leash a little tighter. “Y-yeah. Well. Technically still married, I guess. For now.”

Dina’s gaze flicked down to the dog tags at your neck, then back up. “Still loyal, though,” she murmured, almost to herself.

You opened your mouth to say something — you weren’t even sure what — but the words died when her expression softened, the kind of look only soldiers who had seen too much could give.

“I served with Ellie Williams for a few years,” she said quietly. “She’s a hell of a soldier. But I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. None of that should’ve happened to you.”