DIANA’S POV
I swing my fist toward Vivian’s face.
She catches it easily and twists my arm behind my back.
Again.
“You’re hesitating,” she says, releasing me. “I can feel your fear before your fist even moves.”
I pull my arm back, rubbing my wrist. “Maybe because I still don’t like the idea of hurting people.”
She exhales hard and runs both hands through her sweat-drenched hair. Her chest rises and falls, her breathing heavier than usual. She walks to the bench and grabs a can of water, but doesn’t drink, just clutches it.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She smiles, gripping her hair. “I was kind of busy before I remembered I had to train you.”
“Busy with what?” I ask before I can stop myself.
I squat beside the dummy, watching her. She sighs and places her hand behind her on the b
