9
Elizabeth Karen studied Vicki Cortez’s stiff spine as she stood with her toes hanging off the very edge of the porch as if she was a scared rabbit ready to leap away at the first chance.
“I wanted you to see that there was more to the world than the halls of the Pentagon. This,” she waved her own iced tea though Vicki wouldn’t see the gesture, “is my sanctuary.”
“Why?” Vicki turned to face her.
“It has my books, my husband, and our dog. I raised my children here. It’s filled with good memories and is my home. I feel safe here.”
“Safe.” Vicki finally came to sit in the other chair, though perched as if still ready to bolt.
“I’ve never met someone who could put so much meaning into a single word. Not even General Martinez.”
“I’ve never been somewhere I felt ‘safe.’ And home? Lost th
