Noah barely slept after his rooftop conversation with Lucas Grey. The revelation about Micah kept him tossing and turning, his mind spinning through possibilities and implications. When morning finally came, he dragged himself to homeroom.
Miss Brooks stood at the front of the class, her presence commanding attention despite the early hour. Her red lips curved into a slight smile as she surveyed the sleepy faces before her.
"War," she began, her voice carrying to every corner of the room, "is never won by a single soldier, no matter how exceptional that soldier might be." Her eyes lingered on Noah for a moment. "Victory requires coordination, trust, and most importantly, teamwork."
The class stirred, sensing something different about today's lecture. Even Kelvin, who usually spent the first hour either tuggling with his tablet or fighting sleep, sat up straighter.
