Six months.Six brutal, agonizing, transformative months.I barely recognize myself anymore when I catch my reflection in the metal water buckets. The soft, gentle woman who used to smile too much and trust too easily is gone, burned away by pain and necessity.In her place is someone harder. Leaner. Colder.Someone who knows how to survive.“Again,” Kate barks, circling me like a predator. “And this time, don’t telegraph your moves like an amateur.”I wipe blood from my split lip and raise my fists, ignoring the screaming protest of my exhausted muscles. We’ve been training for three hours already, long after everyone else has collapsed into sleep.Kate doesn’t believe in rest days. Or mercy.She lunges at me without warning, and this time I’m ready. I dodge left, using the movement she taught me, economical, efficient and drive my elbow toward her ribs.She blocks it easily, but I’m already spinning away, creating distance.“Better,” Kate acknowledges, the closest thing to praise I
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