Chapter 3

"What in God's name are you all doing? Is training over?"

A voice, hard-edged and furious, cut across the field.

Captain Reed — one of the ROTC cadre, the assistant professor of military science — was striding across the pavement in the punishing sun, roster in hand.

He took in the ragged formation, the tarps duct-taped over the vent, the dark stain on the concrete, and his brow drew into a knot.

"Prescott. What is going on here? Where is Callahan?"

Captain Reed pushed his sunglasses up, his eyes settling on the metal door barred with iron and chained with a U-lock.

Ethan didn't move. His voice was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

"She's inside, reflecting."

Captain Reed's expression snapped. He strode forward.

"You locked a cadet in a metal shed with no A/C in this heat? People die from that!"

He wheeled on Ethan.

"Prescott. Give me the key. Open the door. Now."

Ethan looked down at the active-duty captain — a man a good half a head shorter than himself.

"Sir. I'm the cadet officer in charge of this FTX."

"My job is to break these freshmen of their laziness and their bad discipline."

"This is my training method. With respect, sir — please don't interfere."

Captain Reed's face went dark with fury. He jabbed a finger at Ethan.

"This is abuse. This is misuse of authority. If something happens to her, you'll be held responsible. Open that lock. Now."

Ethan gave a cold laugh, fished the key to the U-lock out of his pocket, and — while every eye on the field watched in disbelief — opened his fingers and dropped it through the grate of the storm drain.

The key vanished into the black gullet of the drain below.

Captain Reed froze, his whole body shaking with rage. "You — what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Ethan spread his hands wide, laughing openly.

He gestured at the sealed door, his gaze meeting Captain Reed's.

"Oh, gosh — so sorry, sir. Butterfingers. Guess I dropped the key."

"I guess we'll just have to wait until the FTX ends and get someone out to cut the lock off."

"Anyway, she'd rather sit in there than admit she was wrong — good. Lets her reflect on it a while longer."

"This is the top-tier recruit your ROTC program brought in. Determined to make a scene at everyone else's expense. I'm just doing you a favor by disciplining her."

Chloe seized her cue and jumped in.

"Captain — please, don't blame Eth. The key really did just slip out of his hand."

"Emmy's got a temper on her back at the dorm too — slams doors, throws things at the drop of a hat. She must be hearing us right now, and she's just refusing to say a word."

"It's her whole princess thing — she's doing this to make us all look bad."

Captain Reed had gone gray with fury. His chest heaved.

He stared at that impassable door, then at the bottomless drain that had swallowed the key, and for a moment he had nothing.

He slammed his palm against the metal panel twice and shouted through it:

"Callahan! This is completely out of line!"

"If you can hear me, answer me! I'm going to get Campus Police out here with cutting tools right now!"

"If you don't start cooperating, I am putting this in your cadet record. I will report it up to Cadet Command. You will get demerits!"

Dead silence from the other side. Only the heavy, iron-thick heat crept out from under the door.

The freshmen who'd been standing at parade rest for two hours in the sun finally cracked.

"Emma, just come out already! Stop dragging us into this!"

"Yeah! Because of you, the rest of us are stuck baking out here!"

"Selfish. Faking sick and taking all of us down with her."

The voices piled on, wave after wave, closing around the metal shed.

I hovered over it all, watching Captain Reed storm off to get Campus Police.

Watching my own classmates — the same ones I'd sat next to in lecture — cursing at my corpse.

Watching that certain, cold little smirk on Ethan's face.

My spirit drew itself in, hugging its own arms.

I used to think that if I were just obedient enough, one day Ethan would finally see how good I was.

I used to think that lab report would earn me even a scrap of mercy.

But now I understood.

To him, my life didn't weigh as much as a single one of Chloe's lies.

There were no tears left in me. Only a flat, empty quiet.