The metal was cold and solid, nothing like the thin plastic hospital bracelets that used to define my life.

I rubbed a dry cotton cloth over the eagle crest until the gold gleamed.

Sarah stood at attention by the door frame of our shared room and rolled her shoulders back.

“Inspection is going to be brutal tomorrow,” Sarah said.

“The CO is running a full dress rehearsal for the whole graduating company.”

“We’re ready,” I said.

I hung my dress jacket on a thick wooden hanger and checked the spacing of the gold stripes on the sleeves.

My resting heart rate was fifty beats a minute.