Chapter 6: Resentment and Resolve

I knew exactly where Mason’s hostility came from. The city had sent supplies twice, but by the time they got to the border, half was gone—lost to bureaucracy, corruption, or worse. The men on the front lines risked everything, then came home to empty cupboards. That kind of betrayal eats at you.

Someone had to take care of the dirty work, but right now, the soldiers’ survival came first. That’s why I escorted the supplies myself, family name and all. It wasn’t about pride—it was about making sure no one starved.

Enough was enough. There’d be time to deal with Mason when he came to Chicago for his commendation. In the meantime, he could stew.

I cut short Lewis’s performance, raising my hand for the belt. The air snapped as I brought it down, hard enough to leave a red welt. Only then did my anger cool, just a little. I turned to head back inside.

Mason checked the mark, snorting. His grin widened, pure mockery. "Did you skip breakfast? That felt like a tickle."

Before I could come up with a retort, Lewis was after Mason again, his voice echoing across the yard. I paused, catching Mason’s still-defiant glare. The guy was impossible.

"When Captain Mason gets back to Chicago for his medal, I’ll make sure to eat my fill first." The words ground out between my teeth.