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ELLA'S POV 2YEARS AGO
"Mr. Murphy, do you have anything left to say."
I keep my eyes trained on the back of Jaha's head. My body is shaking now, theres no doubt about that, and tears prick behind my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I don't even know this man, I don't deserve to cry.
"Please." Mr. Murphy begs and I finally tear my gaze from the chancellor to see his eyes glossing over. "Please -my boy - I'm all he's got. Don't do this."
"You should have thought about that before." Jaha replies coldly.
"Please." He says again, his voice raising. "I'll do anything."
"Dad?" I recognize the voice instantly. "Dad!"
Without even daring to look I listen to the struggle ensue behind me. It's clear he wasn't even aware of his father's sentencing from the way he came in late. The boy yelling, the man begging, it all blends together in a whirlwind of chaos. I see Jaha nod to the man standing by the wall and with wide eyes, I watch him push the button.
This is my first floating - and it is indescribable. Awful, horrific, petrifying; no words come close to how it feels. Though the initial death is quick, it feels as if it lingers, as if time slows down; the boy falls to his knees in defeat, his face streaked with tears, emotionless. His lips slightly parted in stupor. I cross to him, forgetting my place in this room, but the guards let me kneel before him. When his eyes reach mine I flinch, momentarily worried he will snap at me, blame me, retaliate.
But he does not.
He doesn't push me away when I send comfort through my eyes. He doesn't snap when I take his hand in mine. And he does not resist when I help him stand. Something falls between us, something like trust. We've never spoken, even though we are in the same class. He's known as a loose cannon but I don't fear him. Not now.
Without asking for permission I lead him from the chamber, from where his father took his last breath. He nods in silent thanks once we are back in the hallway and without another look he heads to his now empty apartment.
THIRD PERSON POV PRESENT DAY
The stars shine brighter from Ella's post; away from the others working on the minefield.
It's darker on the edge, quieter, and somehow much more peaceful. Her eyes scan the endless sky instead of the forest laid out before her. Gun in her hands, shoulder resting against a tree.
