I lean hard against Jackson, half awake.
We’re given the rest of the day to rest with plans to ship us back to school that night. Most of my fellow Cadets and friends sleep in the tents provided for us, but I’m unable to find rest. Instead I just sit in a weird little waking coma of grief, staring into space a lot, thinking about Tony, considering how terribly unfair this world is. Hating this stupid, ridiculous war.
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