"That’s a cute toy, sweetheart. But the adults are talking." The laughter in the Officer’s Club was like a physical slap. My hand tightened around the handle of my gun case. I was twelve years old, standing in a room full of Navy SEALs, wearing a maintenance worker’s jacket and a silver trident necklace that felt heavy against my chest. Colonel Vaughn didn't see me. He saw a nuisance. He saw a little girl playing pretend on the anniversary of her mother’s death. "My mother was a sniper," I said,