Font Size:
Already moving.
No hesitation.
No delay.
Just—
Focus.
“He changed targets,” she says.
“Yes.”
“He couldn’t break me.”
No.
“He’s trying to make you break yourself.”
Her eyes meet mine.
And for a second—
I expect to see it.
The crack.
The fear.
The pull inward.
Instead—
I see something else.
Something sharper.
Colder.
More dangerous.
“He picked the wrong pressure point,” she says.
That’s not emotion.
That’s decision.
Good.
Because I feel it too.
“He wants you off balance,” Boone adds.
Scout shakes her head slightly.
“He wants me reactive.”
A beat.
