Page 47 of V-Day
“Ran away from where?” Parris asked.
Chloe stiffened.
“New York Military Academy,” Cristián said.
“Cristián!” Chloe said, hurt.
His arms tightened. “We’re all family here,” he said softly.
Chloe tried to encompass that. They really were. Even the three men standing perimeter around them were a fraternity with Parris in the center. The Academy spent three years grinding the concept of fraternity into Chloe’s bones, as if she didn’t understand the meaning in the first week she was there. She rejected it for herself. Even though she hadn’t refused aloud, they knew she wasn’t buying into it. It was what drove the hazing, the heavy handed instructions from the teachers, the endless KP duties and more.
“Military school,” Parris breathed. “That explains a lot.”
“You’re a soldier, Chloe?” Isabela whispered, sounding impressed.
“No,” Chloe said. “They tried to make me one. It didn’t take. I was too ornery.” It felt awkward to be speaking of these things to anyone but Cristián, yet he was right—this was his family.
She’d never had to think in terms of family, before. There had only ever been first her mother, then EllaJean.
“And who is—was, I mean—EllaJean?” Parris asked. Her tone was light, yet interested.
“Chloe’s grandmother, who raised her after her mother died,” Cristián answered. “A brilliant woman. She spoke seventeen languages—”
“Twenty-seven,” Chloe corrected, as either Trini or Pia gasped.
“She spoke seventeen languages fluently and could make herself understood in ten more,” Cristián said smoothly. “When Chloe’s mother died, she turned down an offer to play lead violin in a concerto orchestra, and took over Chloe’s education.”
The silence seemed to tick with intensity. Chloe shifted in Cristián’s arms, acutely uncomfortable.
“Wow…” Parris breathed.
“Wow, indeed,” Isabela added.
“How on earth did you end up in military school with a woman like that taking care of you?” Parris demanded, her voice still soft.
Chloe shuddered. “I didn’t appreciate what I had, when I had it.”
“You do now?” Isabela asked.
“Every day,” Chloe admitted softly.
An owl hooted, somewhere in the dark.
“Silence!” Parris hissed.
Her heart leaping, Chloe pressed her lips together to prevent any noise escaping her. Cristián’s arms tightened.
For what seemed like an hour, nothing happened except her heart beat continued to thud in her temples. Chloe strained to hear anything. There was only the soft whisper of a breeze in the tops of the trees, the rustle of small creatures in the dark and nothing else. No one moved. No one breathed loudly.
The rifle shot was shockingly loud and unexpected. It seemed to come from just a few feet away. The flash of the muzzle was blinding. Chloe jumped and a breathless gasp escaped her.
Almost as the rifle fired, Parris surged to her feet, her own rifle in her hands. She fired a short, sharp burst. It seemed she was expecting this, for there was no delay in her response.
Shouts from farther away in the trees and more firing, none of it close by. Boots, running in the night.
Parris stayed where she was, her rifle aimed, turning in a semicircle to sweep the trees. There was a night scope on her rifle, for Chloe could see the orange glow of the stepped-up image against Parris’ eye and cheek. She didn’t seem to blink as she quartered the trees.
Isabela moaned.
