Riley POV
I silently enter the building, locking the door carefully behind me. I circle the floor, taking in everything, from the boxing ring, the floor mats, the boxing bags, and other equipment. The lights are bright but not blinding, the walls littered with different photos of whom I can only assume are Ricardo's important clients. One photo in particular catches my eye. It's me, standing beside Ricardo, his hand over my shoulder, both of us smiling widely into the camera. I'm only thirteen years old in the image. A young teenager. I swallow hard and then go to the singular bag resting on the floor that has my initials embroidered on it.
I dress in the workout clothes provided, all my size. I wrap my hands with tape and then bounce to my feet, heading directly towards the boxing bags
