The next morning, I felt a strange sense of clarity. The day before, training had been exhausting but oddly freeing. I had taken out so much of the anger I felt toward Faruk on that punching bag, imagining his face with every hit. But the lingering frustration hadn’t entirely disappeared. The nightmares were still fresh, and the sight of Faruk still stirred a complicated storm of emotions inside me—rage, confusion, guilt, and something else I wasn’t quite ready to admit to myself.
I made my way back to the training center. It was the only place where I felt like I had any control over my life. Blake greeted me with a nod, and I immediately set to work, warming up with some light footwork and shadowboxing. The rhythmic movement of my fists helped me focus, blocking out the chaotic noise in
