Since opening, the Athlala-owned gym has been more than a place to work out—it’s been a safe, welcoming space for women to build strength and confidence through functional fitness. A trusted part of the neighborhood, the gym also plays a major role in local fundraisers and community causes.
A member who asked to be anonymous shared, “Embers and Ashes is a place where everyone is welcome. Good days. Bad days. There’s always room for you here. Well, not to whoever did this… you should have the day you deserve.”
No one was injured and the interior was untouched, but the message was clear—an attempt to intimidate a woman making waves in professional sports.
The Ashbury Police Department has launched an investigation. Surveillance footage is being reviewed, but no suspects have been identified.
We reached out to Blair Miller and The Upstate Cosmos’ front office—both have declined to comment.
The studio is closed this week as the damage is assessed.
Thirty-Six
Blair
Snowdriftspastthewindow in lazy spirals, the kind that hushes the city. Inside, the radiator hums, filling the quiet I can’t seem to. My reflection blurs against the glass—pale, tired, the kind of tired that lives in your bones.
“Blair?”
I blink back into focus. Dr. Latham’s voice is calm, steady, like she’s used to pulling people out of this heavy fog.
“Sorry,” I mumble, shifting on the couch.
“That’s okay,” she says, crossing one leg over the other. “Why don’t you tell me about your dad?”
The question catches me off guard. “My dad?”
“You mentioned he called recently.”
I huff out a dry laugh. “Yeah. First time in over a decade. And not to say he misses me or anything. He wanted football tickets.” I pick at the nail polish that’s almost chipped all the way off. “Guess being in the NFL finally made me useful again.”
My therapist waits, letting the seconds stack on top of each other before asking, “How did that feel?”
I scoff and let my eyes look around the room. The feeling is still there—the way I felt when he used the nickname from when I was a kid. It was like I was holding a hot pan, feeling the scorching on my skin, but couldn’t find a way to let go.
“Horrible. And crushing. I always had this hope that one day, he’d show up and apologize for being gone, give me a good reason. He took that from me,” I say, my throat tight. “I should be used to it by now. But it’s like—” I stop, trying to find the right words. “Every time I start thinking maybe I’m enough, something proves I’m not.”
Dr. Latham’s eyes soften. “You feel like you’re not worth it?”
“Maybe,” I admit quietly. “Earn the offer. Earn your spot on the team. Earn a day off. Earn the right to be at the gym. Earn the right to take up space.” I keep picking at my nails, afraid to look at her when I sound so pathetic.
“Blair,” she says softly, “Mitchell doesn’t get to decide what you’re worth anymore. No one does. Your worth is up to you.”
I immediately smile, hearing her shift from calling him my dad to his first name. Because, no matter what, he’s really not my dad. The words land harder than I expect. Not sharp—more like weight, like truth settling where it needs to.
She leans forward. “He only has power over you as long as you keep giving it to him.”
I swallow, blinking fast. “So what, I just stop caring?”
“You don’t stop caring,” she says. “You stop chasing. You stop proving. You learn to cope when the feelings arise. That’s how you take your power back.”
Something cracks open inside me—not in a dramatic way, just a quiet release. “I’m so exhausted. Like, I’m one thing away from completely melting into the floor, unable to stand back up.
Dr. Latham’s pen stills. “Is Tyson the tipping point?”
Tyson. Hearing his name makes my stomach twist. It’s been two days since I left his apartment. We’ve texted—short, careful messages—but it’s not the same. Every time my phone buzzes, I want it to be him sayingcome back, but I was the one who needed space. I was the one who said I neededto breathe. Still, the quiet between us feels heavy. I miss him in a way that sits behind my ribs, dull and constant.
“I really don’t think Tyson meant to hurt me,” I admit finally. “In all the years we’ve known each other, he’s always been there. Ready to help. Ready to pick me up.”
