Page 113 of Aviatrix

No. I have to.

There’s no time for heartbreak or heartache or whatever this stupid feeling clawing at my chest is.

This is war. And war doesn’t care how tired you are.

Eat and sleep. I promised Eli. I can’t sleep, so I guess I’ll try eating.

I force one foot in front of the other as I make my way to the mess hall.

It’s quiet. Too early for most. Until I reach for a tray. At the exact same time as Lark.

Of course it’s him. My grief twists into something meaner, easier to carry. Sarcasm slips in like armor.

I groan and roll my eyes.

“Here,” he says, offering me the tray he took.

“I don’t want it,” I hiss.

He exhales, slow and patient. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“Wow. You’re a genius.” I smile thinly. “Is that how you got Gina to take her skirt off?”

He flinches but doesn’t rise to the bait. “You’re grieving, so I’ll let that one go.”

“You’re such a nice guy,” I say through gritted teeth. “Too bad nice guys finish last.” I imagine punching him. Just hard enough to knock the pity off his face. But that would get me kicked off the Alien Warfare team. And I need that spot. It's the only way I'm going to figure out what we’re actually up against. It’s the only way I’m going to get the answers I need about the aliens. About Eli.

Lark surprises me by shifting gears, nearly giving me whiplash. “You’ve never known what to do with grief. Or sadness. You wear it like armor, wrap it in snark and call it strength. But Kin,” his voice softens, “you’re allowed to be sad. At least here. With me.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere with you,” I say. It comes out weaker than I want it to.

“We’ve formed a team to recover the wreckage site,” he says, pivoting. “They head out soon.”

I pause. Just for a second.

A flicker of guilt. Not much. But enough to mumble, “Thank you.”

“I’ve been up all night, too,” he says, reaching for a banana. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay, Lark,” I grumble, done with the small talk.

“You asked about the Legion meeting. Eighteen years ago.”

I freeze. “Were you there?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Yeah. But I didn’t know what it was until you asked me about it. Walker—the guy I sent you to find in San Diego—asked me to attend and take notes. Just observe. That’s all I did. I didn’t know what the meeting was about.”

“Where was it?” I ask. “D.C.?”

He shakes his head. “No. San Diego.”

My brow furrows. “Who was there?”

Something in me still hopes this morning will be normal. Just food and briefing and war. Nothing else.

But then Lark says it.

“A few older men I didn’t know,” he divulges quietly. “And your dad.”