CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The meeting is taking place in one of the vast underground rooms of the compound. When my dad enters, all the soldiers stop talking and rise to their feet and salute. Then Dad steps aside and lets me into the room. Though they try not to react, I can almost feel the ripple of confusion as it passes down the line. Everyone’s wondering who this beat-up girl is and what she’s doing here.
“This is my eldest daughter, Brooke,” Dad says. “She’s joining us.”
I hobble into the room and take a seat. I am by far the youngest person here. Though there are plenty of women, most are like the soldier I met in the back of the truck; hardened, bulky, emotionless. I stick out like a sore thumb. I’ll be relieved once I’m given a US Marine Corps uniform to replace the strange, stiff,
