Several things happened so quickly he couldn’t even be sure of the order: the snick of his chute unfolding, the jab of branches, the jerk as he pulled the cord, the instant between very, very fast and not at all. He bounced, snared high above the ground, and hit the release. Tumbled into dead leaves and loamy earth. Get away from the ’chute, his adrenaline managed to remind him. Gotta be far away when it’s found. So he staggered forward in the darkness for a few hours until his brain caught up with his body and, instantly, he was asleep.

It started after the disastrous Connolly Surveying, Inc., Christmas party. The engineering school’s colored lab was chilly from more than just the weather as Phillip stumbled toward his seat without lifting his gaze from his shoes. He felt his classmates’ glares strafe across him like suppressing fire as he pulled out his chair with a screech. Then Darius sat down across from him, and Phillip’s stomach wrenched so hard he expected to see his breakfast again.

“Don’t.” Darius reached for the soldering iron Phillip was holding and yanked it from his grasp. “Don’t you even dare.”

“Darius, it’s not my fault.” Phillip swallowed. “I didn’t know. I was just trying to help, I swear—”

“Then you’re a damn fool, Jones. Listen.” Darius looked from Phillip to their professor. “We’ve got finals in just one week, and I’m sure as hell not failing this class, especially not now. I’ll turn our final project in alone if I have to.”

“But, Darius—please. You’re my best friend.”

“Was.” He scoffed. “You really wanna take this away from me, too?”

“Please.” Phillip hated the wheedling in his tone—the tone of a rich boy who rarely heard the word no. “I thought Mr. Connolly just wanted to help your team do your job better. Honest, I did. I wouldn’t have designed it if I’d known.” His mind raced, grasping desperately for something to hold on to. “I’ll have my own funds when we graduate. I can hire you outright. We don’t need his stupid firm, I can come up with my own designs—”

“The last thing I need is ‘help’ from the likes of you,” Darius spat.

“Gentlemen,” their professor said. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Jones with the United States Army. He’d like to speak with you all for a minute.”

Lieutenant Colonel Aloysius Jones walked into the lab, hat mangled from being squeezed in his hands, and surveyed them with a face as long as the Arkansas River. The keening oscilloscopes and snapping soldering irons went deathly quiet. But all eyes whipped back to Phillip as the whispers stirred up again.

“Family of yours, Phillip?”

“Here comes another Jones to ruin our day . . .”