Once we return to our room, she motions for me to sit on her bed. “How do you feel about breaking the rules?” I settle on her mattress, considering her proposition. “How big of a rule are we talking?” She pulls a small bottle from beneath the mattress and holds it up. “Oh, nothing major.” In the dim light, I can’t tell what she’s holding. “Is that some kind of drug?” “No.” She snickers. For the first time this evening, she appears more upbeat. “It’s just nail polish. Against the rules, sure, since it’s not part of our military uniform. But I thought we could paint our toenails. No one will
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