I stood up, my knees knocking together. I walked to the front of the room, clutching a small, tarnished challenge coin in my sweating palm. It was heavy, bronze, with a skull and a trident on one side, and a Latin phrase on the other that I didn’t understand.

I cleared my throat. “My name is Emily,” I whispered. “And… my mom is a Navy SEAL.”

The room went silent. Not the respectful kind of silent. The kind of vacuum-sealed silence that happens right before a bomb goes off.

Then, the explosion happened.

“Yeah, right!” Jason shouted from the back row, leaning back in his chair. “There are no girl SEALs, you idiot! That’s literally against the rules. What does she do, seal envelopes?”