“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Glain said softly. Her dark eyes had gone distant and the look in them sad. “Thomas would never have done anything, said anything to deserve that. He was the best of us.”

Just tell her. She deserves to know!

He finally scraped together just enough courage and drew in a deep, slow breath as he looked up to meet her eyes. “Glain, about Thomas—”

He was cut off by a sudden hard rapping on the door. It sounded urgent, and Jess bolted up off the bed and crossed to answer. He felt half relieved for the interruption . . . until he swung it open, and his squad mate Tariq Oduya shouldered past Jess and into the room. He held two steaming mugs, and thrust one at Jess as he said, “And here I thought you’d be still lagging in bed . . .” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Glain standing against the wall. She had her arms crossed, and looked as casual as could be, but Tariq still grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Or maybe you just got up!”

“Stuff it,” Glain said, and there was no sign of humor in her expression or voice. She moved forward to take the second cup from Tariq and sipped it, never mind that it was probably his own. “Thanks. Now be about your business, soldier.”

“Happy to oblige, Squad Leader,” he said, and mock saluted. Technically, they were off duty, but he was walking a tightrope, and Jess watched Glain’s face to see if she intended to slice through it and send him falling into the abyss for the lack of respect.

She just sipped the hot drink and watched Tariq without blinking until he moved to the door.

“Recruit Oduya,” she said as he stepped over the threshold. “You do understand that if I hear a whisper of you implying anything about this situation, I’ll knock you senseless, and then I’ll see you off the squad and out of the High Garda.”

He turned and gave her a proper salute. His handsome face was set in a calm mask. “Yes, Squad Leader. Understood.”

He closed the door behind him. Jess took a gulp of the coffee and closed his eyes in relief as the caffeine began its work. “He’s a good sort. He won’t spread rumors.”

Glain gave him a look of utter incredulity. “You really don’t know him at all, do you?”

In truth, Jess didn’t. The squad had bonded tightly, but he’d held himself apart from that quite deliberately; he’d formed deep friendships in his postulant class and seen some of those friends dismissed, injured, and dead. He wasn’t about to open himself up to the same pain again.

Still, he considered Tariq the closest he had to a friend, except for Glain. Glain he trusted.

His uniform jacket was still clean, and he put it on as he finished the coffee. Glain watched in silence for a moment before she said, “You were about to tell me something.”