Part 1Runaway Princesses Pay the Price

Midway through our mandatory Corps cadet orientation, our class’s resident golden girl decided she’d had enough of the drill field. Her grand idea was as reckless as it was intoxicating: scale the back security wall at midnight and run off to Disney World to play runaway princesses.

"Standing at attention in the dirt for eight hours a day is exhausting, soul-crushing, and completely pointless," Tiffany Cole declared, flourishing a thick stack of park passes between her manicured fingers. "We’re eighteen! Youth is supposed to be wild. I even shelled out for the VIP Lightning Lane passes. Anyone who doesn’t come tonight is dead to this class."

My boyfriend, Derek Mercer, was the first to cheer, his eyes shining with adoration. Within minutes, the whole dorm floor was caught up in the frenzy, throwing civilian clothes into duffel bags.

In my previous life, I knew the cost. Breaking base protocol and abandoning post during Corps training was an immediate, unappealable expulsion. Back then, I stood in the doorway, desperately blocking their exit, begging them to think about their futures. When they shoved past me, I ran to the barracks duty officer and brought the instructors to stop them.

The fallout was brutal. The entire platoon was sentenced to twenty grueling penalty laps at dawn. Tiffany received a major disciplinary reprimand, forfeiting her fast-track master’s recommendation. And on the eve of graduation four years later, she cornered me on the library rooftop, weeping that my petty jealousy had ruined her entire life. Derek, completely consumed by her tears, shoved me over the parapet. I remembered the rush of cold air, the sickening jolt of vertigo, and the concrete below shattering my bones.

Then I opened my eyes.

I was back in the dorm lounge, standing under the buzzing fluorescent lights, the smell of Florida humidity and boot polish in the air. Tiffany was waving those purple VIP passes in my face.

A low, quiet laugh escaped my lips.

"Go ahead," I said softly. "I hope you have the time of your lives at the Magic Kingdom."

Tiffany blinked, a flicker of genuine shock cracking her practiced pout. "Natalie? You’re... not going to lecture us?"

In my past life, this was the exact moment I had barred the heavy wooden door with my body, quoting the student handbook and Corps regulations until my voice went hoarse. My reward had been twenty-nine pairs of rolling eyes, four years of ostracism, and a fatal drop onto pavement.

I took a slow, deliberate step back, clearing the doorway entirely.

"Your feet belong to you," I said, keeping my tone perfectly conversational. "Why should I stand in your way? Though, abandoning an active military training installation without leave carries severe federal and academic penalties. Are you absolutely certain you want to roll the dice on that?"

"God, what a pathetic coward," Tiffany sneered, tossing her honey-blonde hair and slamming the passes onto the center table. "I already checked the duty roster. Captain Briggs drove into the city for a district conference. Nobody’s doing bed checks tonight."

She spun around toward the rest of the cohort, pitching her voice up an octave, dripping with honeyed charisma.

"Right, guys? Being young means breaking the stupid rules! We aren’t machines!"

"Tiffany’s right!" Derek stepped forward instantly. The open reverence in his gaze made my stomach churn. "Natalie, you’re just too rigid. We’ve been sweating through our uniforms for two straight weeks. What’s wrong with unwinding for one night?"

He drifted closer to Tiffany until their shoulders practically brushed, leaning into her orbit with an ease that should have made his status as my boyfriend impossible.

"If anything goes sideways, I’ll take the heat," Derek added, his chin jutting out proudly. "I won’t let it blow back on our precious deputy squad leader."

I stared at the face of the boy who had once shoved me to my death. A wave of cold disgust rippled through my veins, but my exterior remained smooth glass.

"You'll take the heat?" I raised an eyebrow. "With what collateral, exactly, Derek?"

"I'm the class president!" Derek puffed his chest, dripping with cheap bravado. "Haven't you heard of safety in numbers? Even if someone catches wind of it, what’s the dean going to do? Expel twenty-nine students all at once? They wouldn't dare."

"Exactly, Natalie. Don’t be such a buzzkill," chimed in Peyton Brooks, my bunkmate, who was already in front of the mirror applying ruby-red lipstick. "Tiffany paid for VIP concierge service. Only an idiot would sit in a concrete room when they could be drinking Dole Whips in front of Cinderella Castle."

"Yeah, come on," muttered Brad, one of the guys who spent half his day fetching Tiffany iced lattes. "Worst-case scenario, they make us do push-ups tomorrow morning. If you're too scared, Natalie, just say so. Don't hide behind this saint act."

I leaned against my desk, crossing my arms as I watched the pack of fools seal their own coffins.

"Fair enough," I said calmly. "If none of you are worried, I have nothing left to say. Just make sure that if the instructors come looking, my name stays out of your mouths."

"Are you paranoid, or just pathologically insecure?" Tiffany crossed her arms, looking down her nose at me with theatrical pity. "Fine. If you’re so terrified of living, let’s put it in writing."

She yanked a legal pad from her designer tote, ripped off a sheet, and scribbled furiously.

The undersigned students of Squad 3, Class 2, are voluntarily departing campus grounds tonight for Walt Disney World on their own accord. This excursion has zero affiliation with Deputy Squad Leader Natalie Ross. All participants assume full personal and legal responsibility.

She signed her name at the top with an aggressive flourish, then slapped the pen down onto the desk.

"Anyone with guts, come sign. If you don't sign, don't bother talking to the rest of us for the next four years."

Derek didn't hesitate for a heartbeat. He signed his name right below hers, shooting me a look steeped in contempt. "Natalie, you really are a massive disappointment. You don't have an ounce of class spirit."

"Class spirit?" I echoed, my lips curving. "Is that what we're calling a mass violation of federal cadet regulations now?"

"You don't understand the first thing about brotherhood or bonding!" Derek snapped defensively.

"Derek, baby, stop wasting your breath on her," Tiffany cooed, checking her rose-gold watch. "Time’s ticking. Everyone sign fast, then meet at the back perimeter wall!"

In less than ten minutes, the sheet was crowded with twenty-nine signatures, inked in black and blue, complete with scribbled student IDs.

Tiffany picked up the paper, waving it smugly in front of my face before dropping it onto my desk. "Read it and weep, Natalie. The entire class agrees. You’re the only freak left out. Keep this safe so you don't wet your bed worrying about us dragging you down."

I picked up the sheet. My fingers traced the lines, verifying every single name.

All twenty-nine accounted for. Perfect.

Without breaking eye contact, I pulled out my phone, framed the paper beneath the light, and took a crystal-clear, high-resolution photograph. Before sliding the phone back into my pocket, I tapped the screen to ensure the image synced directly to my encrypted cloud storage.

"What do you think you're doing?" Derek frowned, lunging forward to grab my phone.

I pivoted smoothly, slipping the folded paper into my locked drawer while keeping out of his reach. "Backing up the file, Derek. Just in case you decide to shred the original later and claim I gave you permission."

"Small-minded, cynical little snake," Derek muttered, shaking his head with visceral disgust. He turned his back on me and picked up Tiffany’s duffel bag. "Forget her, Tiffany. Let’s go. The private shuttle is waiting outside the rear boundary line."

Tiffany slid oversized sunglasses onto her nose, throwing me a parting glance full of triumph. "Rot in your mildewed room, Natalie."

"Have fun," I said, leaning back onto my pillow without bothering to kick off my running shoes.

The heavy steel fire door slammed shut behind them. Down the hallway, their hushed, giddy laughter echoed against the linoleum before fading into the humid night.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the silence.

Without me standing in the doorway this time, I couldn't wait to see how high the flames would burn.