The final two weeks before Nationals fell into a rhythm Ivy found, unexpectedly, steadying — six a.m. sessions with Lex, full team practice in the afternoons, Coach Orlova's careful, escalating drills sharpening every instinct her father had built into her years ago into something closer to precision than she'd ever managed before.
"You're different since the cemetery," Lex observed, one morning, watching her run through footwork with an ease that hadn't been there the week before. "Lighter. Faster, even, somehow, though I don't know how that's possible from a mental shift alone."
"Coach says the body follows the mind more than people realize. I believe her now." Ivy reset her stance, feeling the familiar grip of her father's saber settle into her palm exactly right. "I stopped fencing l
