My father raised his whiskey and fired the punchline: “If my daughter’s a general, then I’m a ballerina.” My mother smiled like silk. My brother basked in it. And I sat at Table 19 by the emergency exit—right where they’d placed me: quiet, erased, disposable. Then A colonel strode in, snapped a salute, and called my name with a rank that made the room go cold. Because what they buried for years wasn’t just a secret—it was a weapon. And tonight… it came to collect.

I told myself going to the reunion was operational—cover, contact, observation.

It was.
But it was also personal.

I needed to see the truth with my own eyes: had my family forgotten me… or erased me on purpose?

They answered with laughter.

And upstairs, when Merlin flashed escalation status 3, my life split into two tracks:

Mission. Reckoning.

I pressed my palm to confirm.

“Lieutenant General Dorn,” the voice said. “Extraction authorized.”

I didn’t hesitate.

PART 4 — THE DOORS BURST OPEN
They assume extraction is discreet. A service elevator. A black SUV. A quiet exit.

Not when Merlin escalates.

I was back in the ballroom when the MC raised his glass to the Dorn name and called my family “legacy done right.”