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She crosses her arms. “Hana, the call-off sign. It’s proof.”

“Believe whatever you want to believe. Noa is not my murderous uncle. His dad was an awful man.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.” There is that uncertainty again. My cousin still affects her. Good.

“He hated his father, although he somewhere longed for his approval. Noa was getting too much clout in the organization, and Dario detested it.” The wheels are turning in Lana’s head, and even if she doesn’t want to admit—my admission is making her reconsider everything. I hope so. She stands up and crosses her arms.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask her while holding onto my bag.

“How Noa is going to retaliate.” She is smart and knows that my cousin’s next steps are going to be brutal.

“Yes, he will. And you are counting on it.” Her devilish grin is unmistakable. No wonder she got away with everything for so long. I sigh.

“You have to believe me when I say that this isn’t personal. You are Noa’s most valuable asset.” The way she says asset is so casual it makes me furrow my brows.

“Asset?” I loosen the grip on my bag. “I’m his family. You may have a psychology degree, but you lack a genuine understanding of human nature.”

“I’m warning you, Hana, about coming down onto me too hard.” I ignore her threat and continue. This is going to crack Lana; playing on her human side.

“You are a psychologist and trained to connect with others through compassion and empathy. Where is that? Where is that little girl inside of you?” I’m now thanking myself for listening to Sara and her babbling about psychological bullshit. While I’m not trained in physical combat, Sara taught me the importance of psychological warfare. Apparently I don’t suck at it because Lana has uncrossed her arms and a tiny flicker of that humanity appears in her eyes.

“Oh my God, Hana, you are right.” She puts her hand on her heart and starts breathing rapidly. She turns around so her back faces me and I hear her snicker.

“Lana?” I ask tentatively. She waves her hand at me.

“I never thought it would come to this. I see how far I have gone.” She starts sobbing, and I feel a twinge of guilt in me. I come up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. I want to comfort her, but then it all goes to shit. Lana turns around so fast I don’t have time to react. She grabs my arm, and she headbutts me. I go down instantly and lay on the floor. Damn, that was fucking hard and, great, now I am seeing spots.

“I see how far I have gone, and it’s not nearly enough.” Her lips curl upward, but the true malice lingers in her cold eyes. I have been played.

“You really thought that you could manipulate me? A woman with—” She’s interrupted by something getting thrown into the room. She turns around, and does something I didn’t expect; she grabs me by my hand and ushers me outside of the room. We run out of the house, and once we are outside, an explosion happens. The ringing in my ears is instant, and I put my hands on them. When I look at Lana, she is completely frazzled. Even though she put me through the wringer, I feel the safest with her right now.

“Did you do that?” I ask her, and when she looks at me, she shakes her head.

“I didn’t fucking do that. Nobody outside of my team knows I am here, and I’m guessing this isn’t your cousin as well.” She is right. Noa isn’t a fan of throwing bombs; he is a hands-on kind of guy. He would have just stormed in and killed her.

“Yeah. It’s just–” I stop myself because I smell something very distinct: flowers. A strong floral scent invades my nostrils, and I’m instantly terrified. I would recognize this smell and type of bomb anywhere. Lana notices my reaction.

“What is it?” she asks as she takes her rifle and points it well, anywhere. Assessing the danger.

“That was a chemical flash-bang where the outer casing is packed with an infused oil. When that goes off, the oil vaporizes into the air.”

“And you know who did this.” It wasn’t a question; she knows that I know who did this.

“This is Dario’s doing.” My shoulders slump, and I want to fucking puke. My uncle isn’t here; he probably let one of his men do this. He doesn’t employ women because he is a raging misogynist.

“Then we need to get the fuck out of here!” Lana shouts as she starts running, but I can’t. I’m rooted into the ground because of fear. I look at the destroyed room where I had to be a ballerina again and where my life almost ended had it not been for Lana. Losing my life isn’t as jarring as the psychological abuse I just faced. I look at my feet, and my toes instantly curl .

“Hana! Hana! Hana!” My name is muffled in the background until I feel hands on me, dragging me away. I am running, but on autopilot. Lana is dragging me through the forest, but I’m starting to lose interest in escaping. The aftermath of that flash bomb really shook me to the core. Amidst all this chaos, I apparently find time to reminisce.

“You are fucking useless. Do you know how much we paid to be here?” my mother screams at me as I am sobbing while holding my ballet shoes. Unwilling to go on stage and perform.

“We have a standing in this community. Do your fucking job and get on that stage! Or would you rather play with computers again?” There is Daddy Dearest with his strong words again. What a fucking asshole.

“But, I don’t want to. Please don’t make me do this.” I plead with them, hoping my tears would waken the human inside of them. But it doesn’t work. My father grabs me by the hair and pushes me down onto the floor. Now I’m on my hands and knees, and my mother is kicking me in the ribs.

“It will be really hard to do a pirouette with broken ribs. Get up, wash your face and perform. Otherwise you will feel our wrath.” Gosh, my mother’s words are cutting through my veins like a knife. But my dad delivers the final blow.

“If you don’t perform, we will tell Dario how Noa influenced you, and then he’ll take it out on him.”