Jade read Tessa's last message until the words stopped trying to turn into guilt.
Keep it to questions only.
The cafeteria had changed while she watched Tessa run out of Roosevelt South. Children had been moved away from the windows, soldiers worked in pairs near every exit, and Caleb Morris sat under a blanket with Mason Bell's taped dinosaur in his lap. Mason had decided the man with the broken arm looked like someone who needed a guard.
Waddell had turned two folding tables into a command desk. Phones, radios, charger cords, bottled water, a cracked laptop, and three clipboards covered the surface. The school basement still looked like a basement. It also looked occupied by people who refused to scatter.
Kieran stood beside the table with one hand on the back of a chair. The gold under her skin had faded to a tired thread. Every few seconds, she checked Jade's right eye and looked away before Jade could catch her at it.
Jade let the worry pass.
It had no use yet.
