Olivo didn’t react, not visibly. He picked up the pen again, wrote something down that she couldn’t see, and then looked up. “You believe.”
“Yes, Sergeant. I didn't have full confirmation, but I recognized his voice from earlier in the day. Same cadence. Same tone.”
“Did the basic see you?”
“Yes.”
“Did Krueger see you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
The silence in the room stretched. Olivo leaned forward slightly, his hands folded now. “You’re not required to report something you didn’t witness directly. But you did choose to. Why?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Because I know misused power when I see it. I don’t care what it looked like to anyone else. It felt wrong.”
Olivo gave the faintest nod, then reached for a secure tablet from the drawer. He tapped in a code and pulled up a log entry screen. His voice remained even. “This conversation doesn’t go into your record unless it becomes actionable. You’re not on report. You’re not listed as a witness. Not yet.”
“Understood.”
He wrote for a moment, then looked at her again. “If you’re telling the truth, McKenna, this won’t be the last time you feel it—seeing something and not being able to name it.”
She met his eyes. “I’d rather feel that than pretend I didn’t see anything.”
He didn’t smile. But something in his expression shifted, almost like approval. “Dismissed, Cadet.”
She saluted. “Yes, Sergeant.”
As she left the office, Olivo sat for a long time staring at the closed door. Then he typed one line into the private log on his secure Chase Security channel.
Subject flagged: Cadet First Class Krueger. Observe quietly. Threat level unconfirmed. Potential escalation likely.
FIVE
DAY FIVE
The room was still. A little too still. Shannon sat at the edge of her bunk in the soft gray before reveille, legs dangling, boots unlaced, spine straight. She didn’t check the time. Her body already knew the rhythm:wake before the bell, dress fast, anticipate inspection, keep your face unreadable.
She rested her elbows on her knees and looked at the wall across from her bed. A dull cinderblock surface, just slightly uneven, as if even the building itself wasn’t quite awake yet.
The bunk above hers was empty. She hadn’t met her roommate yet. The room still smelled like detergent and fresh paint, faintly industrial and temporary.
She reached under her pillow and pulled out the pocket-sized notebook she'd been hiding since Day One. It wasn’t regulation, just enough space to think in sentences. She opened it and wrote two lines.
Day 5
Nothing is quiet here except my head.
She tapped the pen lightly on the page, then wrote another.
Cadet seen yesterday. Not sure what I saw, but I saw it. And he saw me.
She paused.
I don't think I'm supposed to care this much. But I do.
The sound of footsteps in the hall made her close the notebook quickly and slide it under the folded edge of her mattress. Someone stopped at the door.
It opened with a quick metal click. A girl entered, uniform bag slung over one shoulder. She spotted Shannon immediately and blinked. "You’re McKenna?"
