The morning was quiet, but Hazel knew something had changed.
At breakfast, Zyran said, "Starting today, you train with Marco."
Hazel blinked. "Train?"
"You need to protect yourself," he said. "If anything happens... I want you ready."
Hazel nodded slowly. She didn't like the idea of fighting, but she didn't want to be helpless either.
Later, in the backyard, Marco waited with two wooden sticks.
"We start with basics," he said. "You learn to block. Then hit."
Hazel picked up a stick. It felt strange in her hand, but she held it tightly.
For the first hour, Marco showed her how to stand, how to move, and how to block attacks. She made mistakes. She fell once. But she got back up every time.
"You're stronger than you look," Marco said.
Hazel wiped sweat from her face. "I have to be."
From a window upstairs, Zyran watched her train. Her hair was messy, her clothes dirty, but her eyes—her eyes were full of fire.
"She's learning fast," he said to himself.
That evening, Hazel came into the house, tired but proud.
"You trained well," Zyran said.
"Maybe next time, I'll teach you something," she joked.
He smiled slightly. "Maybe you will."
But just as they shared that quiet moment, Marco rushed in.
"There's news," he said. "The Russo family has crossed into our territory. One of our men was attacked."
Zyran's smile vanished. "Prepare the cars. We end this now."
Hazel stood up. "I'm coming."
Zyran stared at her. "It's dangerous."
"I know," she said. "But if this is my life now—I want to face it with open eyes. Not hiding in a room."
He didn't argue. He just nodded.
And as the engines roared outside and the night filled with tension, Hazel realized something:
She wasn't just surviving this world anymore.
She was becoming a part of it.