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“Because we're not going to let them.”

I look at the unconscious guard.

His vest.

His boots.

His jacket.

Then I look at Jasmine.

“Help me take his vest off.”

Her eyes widen.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing the plan.”

We strip the tactical vest from the guard.

It's too large, but I pull it over my jacket.

I take the spare magazine from his belt.

I don't like having the gun.

I don't want to use it.

But fourteen girls are behind me.

I will use it if I have to.

Jasmine watches me.

“You're going back out there?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

I almost smile.

“You don't know us.”

“No, but you're seventeen, frightened, and telling an adult what she can and can't do. I'm getting familiar with the experience.”

She stares at me.

Then, incredibly, she smiles.

I hand her the keys.

“You keep this door locked.”

“What if you don't come back?”

“You wait for law enforcement.”