Dark hairs, one of which was found in Etta’s room…
“I think that Etta was the one who invited the murderer or murderers into the home. I think she was seeing someone, but I don’t know who. I think that this person that she was seeing took advantage of that and planned her murder,” I blurt, looking directly at Ivan. I hadn’t yet voiced this theory to anyone who is involved in the case. I’m fully expecting Ivan to toss my theory out the window.
He doesn’t. Instead, he nods and says, “That’s one of the theories that we’re considering.”
“Do you have any suspects?” I ask.
“We did, but this new evidence has ruled them out.”
“So, you don’t have any suspects.”
He frowns. “That’s correct. We’re re-working our theories and reevaluating the people in the family’s social circle, especially those with black hair.”
I give him a terse nod and say, “Please continue to keep me updated.”
“Of course. On another note, I think you and Elle should continue your training. I believe that should be a top priority for you. You need to learn how to protect yourself. I don’t want you to have to rely on other people for your safety.”
I nod in agreement. Whoever murdered my father is still out there and could be anyone, even someone from our court. We don’t know who betrayed them, but they could betray me next.
“I’ve cleared Elle’s schedule in the mornings for her to train you,” he says. “If it’s okay with you, Mae, I’d like for you and Elle to begin that right now. My remaining agenda items are sparse and can be handled with Luca and Holly.”
Elle and I both nod in agreement before standing. The mood in the room is somber after the updates he just shared. We exit the room and I quickly change into my training gear.
Elle and I run an easy four miles before beginning our physical training. She reviews the basic blocks, dodging, and strikes. After practicing those, she introduces how to escape different kinds of holds. We start with the basics, like getting out of grabs. I master those quickly. Then she moves on to escaping chokeholds, which I have more difficulty with.
“No, Mae, quit grabbing my arms from the sides. You need to punch up from below and break the hold that way,” she says, her hands around my neck for the fifth time.
I haven’t managed to break out of this hold yet, and she’s not going easy on me. “Your attacker isn’t going to go easy on you. Why should I?” she said earlier when I complained.
I move my hands below her extended arms and focus on driving my clenched fists in between them, gathering power from my back leg to increase the force that comes from my fists. I do it quickly, too, and it works. Her hold around my neck loosens, and I break into a smile. But her arms come right back down, and she fastens her hands around my neck again.
“Congratulations, but then you have to remember to move out of the way,” she says dryly.
“Damnit,” I mutter. I repeat the movement again, but this time, she’s expecting it, so I focus on driving more power up. It works, and I dart down and away from her.
She smiles and says, “That was great! Moving in a downward motion is smart because I was planning to just continue to move forward, but you moved down which ruined my plan.”
We practice this a few more times, and I’m able to get out of every chokehold. Next, we practice chokeholds from behind, which is a little bit more difficult to escape.
I focus on stabilizing her arm that’s gripping my neck and tucking my chin into the crook of her elbow like she taught me. I push my hips out, trying to throw her off balance, but she’s still holding on. So, instead of trying to get out of her grip the way she taught me, I bite her forearm. Hard.
She immediately lets go. “Ow!”
I grin at her, and she starts laughing. “Okay, you got me there,” she admits. “Again.”
Her arm is wrapped around my neck, my body flush against hers when the training center doors crash open, the sound reverberating through the space.
Asmo saunters through them, eyes fixed on us.
My stomach instantly flips as I recall the last time I saw him and the way his cruel words made me feel, followed by the shame of allowing it.
“Well, well, well. This is quite a scene. Instead of working out, I may just watch,” he says, slowly approaching us, eyes locked on me. “You know, I could choke you, too. All you have to do is ask.”
His rude remark gives me the fire I need, and I break the hold and move away from Elle.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“Is this not a training center that’s available to all?” he asks, his eyes sweeping over my body.
