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The suffocating darkness of the barracks was my constant companion, a heavy blanket of dread thick with the smell of sweat and fear.
Every whispered threat, every sneer from Caleb Blakely, my squad leader, was a reminder of the impossible secret I carried.
I wasn't "Matthew Johns," a plebe at West Point; I was Molly, a woman masquerading as my injured brother, desperately clinging to his scholarship to save my family from financial ruin.
Then came the night in the communal showers. A broken water main meant no privacy, nowhere to hide my true identity from fifty other men. Caleb had me cornered, his cruel smile promising public humiliation and the end of my impossible dream.
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