“Think about it,” she said. “He survived a direct hit to the stomach because the bullet hit his belt buckle. What if he hadn’t worn his belt? Then everything Professor Callaway just said would have potentially happened. Isn’t it crazy to think that one little thing, like deciding to wear a belt, can change the course of history?”

I nodded, but instead of a belt buckle, I was thinking about a very innocent-looking letter that I’d picked up that had altered the trajectory of my own life. Regan must have been thinking something similar because I saw her bite her lip worriedly. Callaway talked for a while longer, and then hit the play button so we could watch our recap and repercussion track. The screen in front of us lit up, but instead of one recap at a time, all three were on the screen. Watching my classmates react to being thrust into the middle of an active battle reminded me of something, and I raised my hand.

Callaway paused all the screens with the press of one button on his tablet and looked up, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Is this something different about the L and C program too?” I asked, pointing at the screen where Regan and I had been paused mid-dive into the mud.

“Elaborate,” Callaway said, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“Well,” I said, “entering a simulation in danger.”

“That’s correct,” came a low male voice from almost directly behind me, and I about jumped out of my skin as I whirled to see a tall blond boy striding down the aisle between the simulation chairs. He was probably around eighteen, but the most striking thing about him was that he was dripping wet. His white button-up shirt was plastered to his broad shoulders and his boots made a loud squelching noise as he walked. I was so busy gaping at him that I almost didn’t notice the equally soaked blond girl directly behind him until she’d walked past us in a soggy ball gown.

“Ah!” Callaway said. “Sam. Serina. So good of you to join us, although you could have changed first.”

“I wanted to change, but somebody was in an all fire hurry to look at the new recruits,” Serina said, pushing a dripping blond lock of hair out of her eyes to glare at Sam. I looked back and forth between them. Same golden hair. Same blue-green eyes. Same high cheekbones. They were either twins, or just freakishly similar.

“There they are,” Callaway said, gesturing toward Regan and me. “Have your look.”

Serina and Sam turned toward us, as did everyone else in the room. This had to be what a fish in a tank felt like, I thought.