Evanna was already drenched in sweat by the time the first bird called to the morning.
The stars still hung stubbornly above her as she moved through the strength training Doreen had forced into her routine—one hundred push-ups, one hundred squats, one hundred sit-ups. Her arms shook, her core burned, her legs protested, but she ground her teeth and pressed on. This time, she didn’t cry. This time, she didn’t throw up.
This time, she was ready.
When the sky began to soften to lavender and rose, Evanna was already halfway through her blocking forms. She stumbled now and then, corrected herself, breathed through it. Her body remembered more than it forgot. She had bruises along her ribs, her hands were still tender, and her back ached something awful—but something had shifted.
She was no
