Page 161 of She Walks with Broken Things

The house fell quiet. I walked to Nyssa’s wing and stopped outside her door. She was in there. Reading… trying to at least. But I knew she was still there. In the darkness. In the rain.

I lifted my hand. Knuckles raised. Hovering. But I stilled⁠—

I wanted to save her.

God…

I wanted to.

My hand hovered over the door.

But the truth settled heavier than anything I’d ever carried.

I wasn’t pulling her out of the darkness.

I was asking her to walk back into it.

A war I’d started.

One we both couldn’t escape.

I dropped my hand and turned around. Instead of walking back to the study, I headed back outside to the training room once more. Boots crunched over wet gravel. The lock beeped. The door groaned open.

The scent of sweat still lingered.

Fear.

Trust.

Determination.

All of it trapped inside these four walls.

I crossed to the training dummies and dragged one into the middle of the mats.

It stood there.

Silent.

Waiting.

A blurred outline settled into view.

Not enough to see.

Enough to begin.

I rolled my shoulders once. Then moved. My hands moved first. Fast. Precise. The first strike folded the dummy backwards. The second drove it across the mats. Plastic groaned. I never slowed. Palm. Elbow. Knee. Throat.

Again.

I wasn’t hitting anymore.

I was dismantling.