Nyelle
“Let go of me!”
Soreya's voice rose sharply as she struggled against my grip, trying to pry my fingers off her shirt. But I refused to let go. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, years of dreaming had just been ripped away from me with a single message, and now she stood there looking pleased with herself.
Around us, people had already started gathering.
Whispers spread through the crowd as more people stopped to watch.
“What's going on?”
“Isn't that Nyelle?”
“I heard Soreya got the national team slot.”
“What? Why?”
“Honestly, Nyelle is the better rider.”
“Obviously.”
One man folded his arms. “Everyone knows she's more talented.”
Another person immediately shook his head. “Talent isn't everything.”
The first man frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means Nye
