Chapter 2

Jake's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, Emily?"

Brittany, still flustered, was trying to gather the scattered papers. "My acceptance letter! It's all dirty!"

Mike Johnson just stared at the spot where the bus had been, his shoulders slumped. The others looked equally devastated.

"Your father is a very influential man, Jake," I continued, my voice even. "Commissioner Miller. He helps people. He helped me, after my father... He helped Brittany too, didn't he? Claiming she was Dad's goddaughter to get her that spot."

A lie. My father had never mentioned a goddaughter named Brittany.

"He just wanted to help a local girl get ahead," Jake said, a little too quickly. "Dad's got a big heart."

"Of course," I said. "So, this convoy. It's a perfect solution. We just have to wait a few more days."

The others looked at me, a flicker of hope in their eyes, quickly overshadowed by distrust of Jake.

"A military convoy?" Mike asked. "Will they even take civilians?"

"My dad knows Colonel Harrison, the guy in charge of the 81st Brigade," Jake said, puffing his chest out slightly. He was recovering his composure. "He'll make a call. It's practically a done deal."

He was lying. Or at least, grossly exaggerating. But he was also reborn. He knew about this convoy from our previous life. He'd probably planned this, a way to ensure Brittany came along without the rush, and to make himself look like a hero.

"So, we just wait?" Tom asked, still skeptical.

"What choice do we have?" Sarah sighed, kicking at a loose pebble.

Jake shot me a sharp look. He knew I was deliberately playing along, but he couldn't figure out my angle. In the last life, I would have been frantic, blaming him, trying to find another way. This calm compliance unnerved him.

Good.

"Everyone, listen up!" Jake announced, taking charge. "My dad will sort this. We'll meet back here, say, Wednesday morning? I'll have all the details by then."

He put an arm around Brittany. "Come on, Brit. Let's go get some breakfast. My treat."

Brittany, easily placated now that a new plan was in place, beamed at him. "Ooh, can we go to Denny's?"

As they walked away, Brittany cast a smug glance back at me.

The others started to disperse, grumbling.

"Emily, why did you just let him do that?" Mike asked, his voice low and angry. "You know he's full of it."

"Maybe," I said. "But what if he's not? It's a few more days. What else can we do?"

"We could have gotten on that bus if you hadn't backed him up about Brittany!"

"He had the letters, Mike. And the lighter."

Mike's face was a mask of frustration. "This was my one shot, Emily. My mom... she's counting on this."

"I know, Mike."

He shook his head. "No, you don't. You've always had it easy, with the Commissioner looking out for you."

Easy? If he only knew. The constant reminders of my "debt" to the Millers. The way they controlled my father's pension, doling it out in carefully measured allowances. The way Jake treated me, like a possession he was entitled to.

"I'm going to head home," I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah, whatever." He walked off, kicking a discarded soda can with vicious force.

I watched him go, a pang of guilt mixing with my resolve.

This time, it wasn't just about getting to that apprenticeship. It was about exposing the Millers for who they truly were. And Jake, and Brittany.

They thought they were playing me. They had no idea.

I walked to the small post office a block away.

Inside, I bought a stamped envelope and a single sheet of paper.

My father, Sergeant David Hayes, had served under General Marcus Davis. They'd been close, more like brothers than commander and soldier. General Davis had retired a few years ago, but he was on the board of several large corporations, including, I recalled from a news article, a subsidiary of the defense contractor we were supposed to be heading to.

I began to write.

*Dear General Davis,*

*I hope this letter finds you well. It's Emily Hayes, David Hayes's daughter. I'm writing to you because I'm in a difficult situation, and I don't know who else to turn to...*

I detailed everything. Commissioner Miller's "guardianship." The misappropriation of my father's benefits. Jake's manipulation. And Brittany Smith, falsely claiming to be my father's goddaughter to secure an apprenticeship spot that should have gone to someone deserving.

I mentioned the convoy Jake was planning for us to take.

I didn't ask for much. Just for him to look into Brittany's claim. The rest, I hoped, would unravel on its own.

I folded the letter, sealed it, and dropped it in the mail slot.

As I walked out of the post office, the sun felt a little warmer on my skin.

Jake thought he was in control. He thought he was so clever, with his second chance.

He had no idea I had one too. And I had a much longer memory.