Chapter 1 - Keep Recording
The amber liquid hit McKenzie Davidson’s head before anyone in the mess hall finished laughing. It poured through her hair, ran down the collar of her camouflage uniform, and splashed onto the metal tray in front of her. The tray rattled once beneath the impact, but McKenzie did not move. She did not gasp. She did not wipe her face. She sat perfectly still under the harsh fluorescent lights while two hundred cadets watched to see whether she would finally break.
Brody Hale stood over her in a white naval uniform, one hand still wrapped around the bottle. He was broad, loud, and proud of both qualities, the kind of upperclassman who mistook fear for respect because no one had corrected him loudly enough yet. Beside him, Wade Mercer held his phone up with a smug grin, recording every second. Wade was a senator’s son, and he carried that fact the way other people carried rank: invisibly, constantly, and with the assumption that it would open doors before consequences could reach him.
“Too weak to stop us, Davidson?” Brody laughed.
The mess hall answered with more laughter. Some cadets turned away because they were uncomfortable. Others leaned in because they were not. A third cadet near Wade kept laughing too hard, his eyes darting between the bottle and the phone as if he already sensed the joke had gone farther than planned.
McKenzie slowly lifted her eyes toward Wade’s camera. Sauce streaked one side of her face. Her jaw tightened once, then relaxed.
“Keep recording,” she said.
May you like
The laughter faltered.
Not stopped. Not yet. But it weakened, because for the first time that afternoon, Wade realized the girl in the chair was not reacting like prey.
