She took two steps toward the door, rolling her shoulders as if walking into a fight. It would be better to just get it over with. Rip the first day off like a bandage rather than wallowing in her misery like a baby.

She was tall and wiry, a dark smudge - a bruise or dirt - marring the light, inner surface of her forearm. Piercings dotted the shells of her ears, a tattoo peeking out from under her waistband. Drew’s breath caught and held as she turned and her face came into view. She was beautiful in the way that bonfires were - mesmerizing and more than a little dangerous - brilliant rather than pretty. Like those flames, she drew him forward.

Both her father’s hands bore the scars of old burns: the lines a map of a place no one wanted to remember, and Ross couldn’t forget.

AJ knew he should stop the fight. Still, the sight of a little girl - no younger than himself, though smaller - pounding on the commander’s bully of a son made him pause. He watched in open-mouthed admiration as her fists rained down on Holden’s face. This fleshy boy transforming into a snotty-nosed, crying lump of flesh was the same one who’d bloodied AJ’s nose a week ago. She’s taking him, AJ realized.

It was late September in the Ohio River Valley, the dying days of summer when soaring temperatures fought autumn’s grasp. Here the sweat and sunshine lingered, a mocking presence as school began. Sullen waves of heat thickened under the claustrophobic press of low-lying clouds, while humidity amplified the temperatures into a fever dream of shimmering sidewalks and sunburnt noses.

As Esther reached her father’s side, his hand snaked out to grab hold of her upper arm. She gasped, wincing as he dragged her along beside him. For the second time in a single day, AJ found himself wanting to intercede, but this time he didn’t.Adults had a code all their own.