Page 190 of She Walks with Broken Things

Even then…

I could still see him.

I turned away. The crunch of tires filled the silence. So did the ache in my chest. The driver tried to make conversation. I gave a small nod and focused on the trees as we left Alaric’s estate behind. I unlocked my phone and stared at the address Guild had sent me. I had no idea what I was walking into… but I had a feeling I’d walk away changed.

I stared out of the window as we descended into the city. The taxi stopped outside a square brick building tucked between an auto electrician and an old mechanics workshop. There was no sign. Only black-painted windows and the dull thud of leather meeting leather that carried like a bass the moment I opened my door.

Thump.

I paid the driver, stepped out and looked up. A faded stencil on the door read:

THE FOUNDRY BOXING CLUB.

My stomach tightened. The heavy sound of fists on leather never stopped.

Steady.

Measured.

Controlled.

I pushed open the door. Warm air hit me first. Leather. Sweat. Disinfectant. The rhythmic slap of skipping ropes. Gloves striking heavy bags. Voices low. No music. Just discipline.

The gym was already alive. Men and women moved between bags and pads. A young boy, maybe fourteen, struggled through combinations while an older woman corrected his stance.

No shouting.

No egos.

Just work.

Then I saw him.

Guild stood inside the ring. Grey shirt clinging to his back. Hands wrapped. Moving with effortless precision. He wasn’t sparring. He was teaching. A teenager girl threw a lazy jab. Guild caught her wrist. Shifted her feet an inch. Touched two fingers beneath her elbow.

“There.”

His voice was calm.

“Again.”

No praise.

No criticism.

Just patience.

I watched him for another moment. He sensed me before I spoke. His head turned. Those familiar kind eyes found mine. Everything about him changed. Not alarm or surprise. Just awareness.

He glanced back at the girl. “Keep working.”

Then ducked beneath the ropes. He peeled the wraps from one hand as he crossed the floor. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t.”