I slam my fist into the bag again, teeth bared.
Not this time, Dad. You don’t get to win this time.
The image of him—the red eyes, the curled lip, the arm raised—flickers and fades with every strike. My muscles scream, sweat stings my eyes, but I keep going.
Because every blow is a memory rewritten. Every punch is a reminder: I’m not that kid anymore.
Fuck you. Go to hell, Dad.
“Don’t stop, Vincent. You are stronger. Say it.”
“I’m stronger,” I whisper, landing another blow.
“Say it louder.”
“I’m stronger.” I’m not a kid, Dad.
“Who are you?”
Another punch. Harder. “I’m Vincent Cooper.”
“And you are?”
“I’m stronger.” I mutter.
“Again.” She pushes the bag against me.
Another punch. “I’m stronger!”
I launch one final strike, so hard Dr. Baker has to step aside to avoid being knocked down.
“I’m stronger.”
And with every ragged breath, more memories spill out—Nova standing in the hallway, blocking me from a group of bullies; Nova climbing through my window at night with chocolate just to make me laugh when I couldn’t stop being sad; Nova giving me her ukulele.
She was always stronger than me. My armor. My light. But today—today I’m starting to believe I can be strong too.
I rip the sheet of paper bearing my father’s name into a thousand pieces. “I’m stronger,” I murmur, smiling faintly.
I’m not a child anymore, Dad.
You can’t destroy me.
You can’t hurt me anymore.
I’m a man. And I’m stronger than you.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Nova Marshall
PRESENT (2024)
When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the
things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful,
wanted. And then when you are those things, the
