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Laura's POV

I stood in front of the punching bag, sweat dripping down my face, my fists tightly wrapped in gloves. Despite the pain that came with throwing each punch, the steady rhythm of it brought a sense of calm to my mind. It was the only way I knew how to deal with the hurt that my family had inflicted upon me after I visited them to tell them about Annabelle's death.

They had blamed me for what had happened to her. The accusations had rained down upon me like a torrential storm, leaving me feeling battered and bruised. It was unfair, unrealistic, and, to be blunt, cruel. I knew deep down that it wasn't my fault, that I had done everything in my power to be there for her, but their words lingered like a festering wound, refusing to heal.

I shook my head, focusing on the bag as I threw a punch. The sound of the impact echoed across the gym, and I welcomed it, appreciating the release of energy that came with it. I felt eyes on me and turned to see Alexander watching me from the