“Not wanting to forget how horrible it is to kill someone is part of what makes you a good soldier.” “Did you just—” My fist relaxes. “You just called me a soldier. A good soldier.” Sir’s lips shudder in his version of a smile. “Don’t let that incapacitate you either.” The sun dries the water on my cheeks and starts to singe my skin again. This is a weirdly peaceful moment for Sir and me. I fight down the giddiness that threatens to ruin it. “Should we hug or something?” Sir rolls his eyes. “Get your weapon. We head for Cordell.”
