I moan in horror as the tent floods with people, as they stomp out the lingering flames and try to pull Tony’s body away from me. I scream against it, holding onto him, not wanting to let him out of my sight.
But Luca is there, crouching behind me, murmuring to me to let him go – to let the doctors help him – to unclench my hands that are clinging to Tony’s uniform. Luca’s words don’t register with me for a moment as the medics come flying in, as people begin to shout to notify the command about the dead Cadet on the floor, about what they assume was a fight that broke out –
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