Ezra
"I did," I say. "Grey anchored at 31a per my call. Squad Five managed right and Fallon managed left."
Father looks at Allison like she's a word someone else wrote in his book. "Guest instructing at the fence," he says, flat.
"She held a post the ward didn't want to hold," I answer. "That's not instruction, that's field."
He taps a finger on the table. "Your report can say 'unit action.' I don't want to read names that turn into arguments." The room looks smaller and I feel myself take half a step back without moving my feet.
'Don't do it,' Damon says. 'Don't hide the part that matters.'
I split the difference. "The unit acted," I say, and then I add the part father won't like but can't erase, "with Grey anchoring the post and Fallon pinning the flank. The ward nois
