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Chapter 4: The Price of Revenge
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Chapter 6: Sunday Dinner
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... decided if it wanted to be more. Exposed brick, mismatched mats, the faint sting of sweat in the air. Heavy bags swung from rusted chains, and the walls were lined with battered gloves and hand-written schedules. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t modern. But it was honest.
And that was exactly what Seraphina needed.
She hovered near the front door, one hand curled tightly around the strap of her backpack, the other shoved into the pocket of her hoodie. Her breath fogged faintly agai ...
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