Unknown
Not dying on my watch, little lamb.
I scanthe courtyard until I see him. Matteo. Leaning against a pillar, smoke curling from his lips. Watching me like he already knows every word.
Aoife
How the hell did you get my number?
Unknown
You forget who my brother is.
I don’t answer.Then another buzz.
Unknown
Rosa is walking past you. Take out your knife. She’ll take it.
Aoife
Why?
Unknown
You’ll see. I’ll message when and where to pick it up.
Rosa walksover eyes fixed on her phone. I slip my knife into my hand, holding it low. She doesn’t even glance up, but her fingers brush mine, and the blade vanishes. Clean. Effortless. I glance back toward Matteo. He’s gone. I pull up my phone to text him, only to find the whole thread wiped clean.
The thought of the weekend, and the moment with my family hits me once again. Four days, four days to fight my case, even though I know I’ve already lost, before I even walk into the house.
Chapter 16
Matteo
Leo’s fists move fast today. I told him I need a break, because my body is tired. He told me to stop wasting energy on girls. I laughed. I’ve only been with one, went back for seconds, and plan to raise that number.
Sweat stings my eyes as I duck his punch. My knuckles hit his ribs, a hollow thud echoing through the space.
I throw one more strike but miss and he lands a shot to my side. “Fuck,” I hiss.
“You’re angry,” he says.
“When am I not?” I joke, I’m angry almost ninety percent of the day. Nothing new. He’s known me since birth, he jokes I came out with fists clenched, already ready to fight.
I glance across the training zone. My eyes find her like they always do. Aoife, knife in hand. Facing off with her trainer. She’s stiff, but something about the way she’s standing tells me she’s ready to try what I taught her.
I gave the knife back just before the end of the school day. Custom-hilted. Smaller grip. Perfectly balanced for her size. Milo adjusted the weight, then sharpened the edge. When I senther the message telling her where to pick her knife up, I also told her what to say to her trainer, just to piss him off.
She squares her shoulders, chin up, voice cutting through the noise so everyone hears her. “You don’t want to give me a different knife, which I’ve asked for. Don’t. So, I made this one to fit my hand better. If you don’t like it? Then give me the knife I want.”
Her trainer pauses. Blinks, then walks away, shaking his head. Aoife turns slightly, and there it is, the smile. A real one. Not twisted in rage. Not buried beneath fear. Just… hers.
She slices, pivots, deflects, the blade flashing with each turn. It’s not survival anymore, it’s hunger for control.
Leo throws another punch, but I block it, and he laughs. “One day I’ll catch you not focusing.”
I laugh as I unwrap my hands. “Yeah, maybe one day.”
