Fighting Hearts
The room breathed its own air.
“I feel like someone came in at night and stole the blanket,” Aria whispered.
“We’ll get it back,” Kai answered, stepping closer without touching. “They won’t define our day.”
“They’ll try,” Aria said with a bitter smile, taking a deep breath. “Fine. Plan. One: blackout—shades, films. Two: while Daniel’s with management, we map the next weeks so we’re not easy targets. Three: training—mind, breath, ‘red.’” The word hummed like a spell. “Four: statement.”
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