Part 3Runaway Princesses Pay the Price

Dean Evans’s knees buckled. She sank straight down onto the synthetic running track, her hands splayed in the red rubber granules.

"They... they wouldn't..."

"If they just hopped the wooden fence, it's trespassing," Captain Briggs snapped, his voice tight as a coiled wire. "If they took heavy steel cutters to the reinforced grid line where the live sensors were installed..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Just then, one of Tiffany’s sorority hopefuls came sprinting across the field clutching an iPhone. "Dean Evans! Look! Tiffany just went live on Instagram!"

The dean snatched the phone with trembling fingers.

On the screen, bathed in radiant Florida sunshine, was Tiffany Cole. She was wearing a pair of sparkling sequined Minnie Mouse ears in front of the pastel spires of Cinderella Castle, laughing with breathless euphoria.

"Hey everyone! Look where we are! Who actually stays at cadet camp when you can have a VIP tour of Magic Kingdom? Best decision ever!"

Derek slid into the frame, slinging an arm over Tiffany’s shoulders and flashing a peace sign at the camera. "Shoutout to the poor suckers still standing at attention in the dirt back home! Squad Two rules!"

The camera panned outward. All twenty-nine cadets were visible in the background, clad in pastel resort wear and matching shirts, screaming and taking group selfies in front of a parade float.

"They really went..." the student whispered, stunned.

Captain Briggs looked at the screen, his expression carved from gray granite. He lifted his radio, clicking the transmitter.

"Base Security, this is Captain Briggs. Patch me through to the local precinct and base provost marshal immediately. Lock down all primary and secondary campus entrances. They’re still broadcasting their location—do not alert them. When that chartered bus rolls back onto university grounds tonight, close the net."

I stood silently by the rail, watching Derek’s grinning face on the tiny screen.

Laugh, Derek. Laugh while you can.

The wider you smile under the Florida sun, the harder you’ll choke when the handcuffs snap shut tonight.

At eight o'clock that evening, an air-conditioned luxury charter bus hummed down the perimeter road, turning into the main university gates.

The hydraulic doors hissed open, and Tiffany was the first to skip down the metal steps, clutching an enormous, custom-dressed Disney plush toy against her chest.

"I am completely exhausted," she sighed dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she turned back to Derek. "Derek, carry the shopping bags, would you? My arms are about to fall off."

"On it, Tiff. Watch your step, don't twist your ankle," Derek answered instantly, loaded down with glossy shopping bags like an eager golden retriever.

One by one, twenty-nine students piled out into the evening humidity, their faces sunburned, their bodies radiating exhaustion and giddy triumph.

"I bet our deputy squad leader spent the whole day crying into her textbooks," Peyton sneered, touching up her lip gloss as she stepped onto the asphalt.

"Serves her right," Brad laughed, swinging a souvenir cup. "Cowards stay in dorms. Legends make memories."

None of them noticed the heavy tactical cruisers idling in the deep shadows along the driveway. They didn't notice the campus police standing shoulder-to-shoulder with state troopers, or the tight ring of university trustees and provosts waiting by the flagpole.

"Hold right there!"

The shout crackled through the courtyard like thunder.

Captain Briggs stepped out from the darkness, flanked by the university president, the chief legal counsel, and Dean Evans.

Tiffany flinched, nearly dropping her plush toy, but within seconds she smoothed her expression into her trademark mask of bored arrogance.

"Well," she said, tilting her chin up. "Quite the welcoming committee. It was just a day trip, gentlemen. Did you really need to drag the university president out of bed over a little skip day?"

The university president was trembling with a fury so profound his spectacles vibrated against his nose. "Tiffany Cole, your insolence is staggering!"

"Why should I apologize?" Tiffany rolled her eyes, pulling a gold credit card from her designer clutch and holding it out between two fingers toward the president. "I took my friends out for a mental health day. If you're so bent out of shape, have the board send the disciplinary fine to my father. Better yet, I’ll have him cut a check for that new student library wing he's been talking about. We can call it even. Deal?"