The words on the screen blurred.
"See you soon, little sister. -L"
Ave blinked, trying to hold onto the present ….the study, the approaching footsteps, the armed men in her house, but something was pulling at her. A thread in her mind she hadn't known existed, unraveling faster than she could stop it.
"Little sister."
"Never let them own your—"
And then she was gone.
.........
"Sixteen years old, somewhere underground."
The concrete was cold against Ravena's back. She stared up at the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, each breath a knife between her ribs. The man who'd put her down stood a few feet away, rolling his shoulders, not even winded. Viktor. That was his name. Ex-Mossad, her mother had said. One of the best.
He didn't look like much. Average height. Thinning hair. The kind of face you'd forget five minutes after seeing it.
But his hands. God, his hands were fast.
"Again."
Her mother's voice echoed off the concrete walls. No sympathy and no concern. Just that single word.
Ravena didn't move. Her left eye was swelling shut, and she was pretty sure one of her ribs was cracked. The tape on her hands had come loose, spotted with blood from where her knuckles had split.
"I said again, Ravena."
"I heard you." The words came out slurred. Bitter.
"I just don't see the point."
Her mother appeared above her, blocking out the lights. Seraphina Greenberg looked exactly like Ravena would in twenty years. Same dark hair, same sharp cheekbones, same green eyes flecked with gold. But where Ravena's face was soft with youth, her mother's had been carved down to edges. No excess. No weakness.
"The point," her mother said quietly, "is that you're still breathing."
"Barely."
"Barely counts." Seraphina crouched beside her, and for a moment, just a moment…..something gentle flickered across her face. A ghost of the mother who used to braid Ravena's hair and sing off-key lullabies in a language she'd never taught her children, but then it was gone.
"Get up."
"Mom—"
"Get. Up."
Ravena got up.
Her legs screamed. Her ribs screamed louder. But she stood, because that's what Greenbergs did. They stood, and they fought, and they survived.
Even when they didn't want to. Viktor watched her with flat, professional eyes. Waiting. Patient. He'd do this all night if her mother asked. He'd do it until Ravena couldn't stand anymore, and then he'd do it again tomorrow.
This was her life now. Had been for six months, ever since her mother had pulled her and Luca out of school in the middle of the night, driven them to this underground facility, and started training them like they were soldiers instead of kids.
"There are people looking for us," she'd explained. "Bad people. And when they find us, not if, when you need to be ready."*
Ready for what? Ravena had asked.
Her mother hadn't answered.
"Stance," Seraphina ordered.
Ravena raised her fists. Her arms felt like they were filled with wet sand.
Viktor moved but she was quick with that, she saw it coming this time, the feint left, the real strike angling toward her throat….and she blocked it , barely .The impact shuddered through her forearms, and she stumbled back, but she stayed on her feet.
"Better." Her mother circled them like a hawk. "Again."
Viktor came at her faster. A jab, a cross, a knee aimed at her solar plexus. Ravena blocked the first two but caught the knee full in the stomach.
The air left her in a rush. She doubled over, gasping.
"You're anticipating," her mother said. "Stop trying to predict. React."
"I'm trying—"
"You're thinking. That's not the same thing."
Ravena straightened, agony radiating through her core. Sweat dripped into her eyes. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
She was so tired. Tired of the training, tired of the bruises, tired of her mother looking at her like she was a project instead of a daughter.
"Can we just—" Her voice cracked.
"Can we take a break? Five minutes. Please."
Seraphina's expression didn't change. "Do you think they'll give you five minutes?"
"Who? You keep talking about they and them but you never—"
"The people who killed your father."
The words landed like a slap.
Ravena's mouth opened and closed. Her father had died in a car accident when she was eight. That's what she'd been told. That's what she'd believed for eight years.
"What?"
Seraphina's jaw tightened. For a moment, she looked almost human …..almost sorry, but then the mask slid back into place.
"Your father didn't die in an accident, Ravena. He was assassinated. And the people who killed him have been hunting our family ever since." She stepped closer, voice dropping.
"That's why we're here. That's why I'm pushing you so hard. Because one day, they're going to find us. And when they do, five minutes of rest won't matter. Nothing will matter except whether you can survive."
Ravena's throat was tight. Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of Viktor and his empty, watching eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you weren't ready."
"And now I am?"
"Now you don't have a choice."
Silence stretched between them. The fluorescent lights buzzed. Somewhere in the facility, a door slammed.
"Again," Seraphina said softly. "Show me you understand."
Viktor moved and this time, something shifted inside Ravena. Something colder , as a door closing on the girl she used to be.
She didn't block Viktor's first strike. She redirected it, grabbed his wrist, used his momentum against him, stepped into the attack instead of away.
His eyes widened just for a second.Her elbow caught him in the throat.
He staggered, and Ravena followed, knee to the thigh, palm strike to the chest, and then she had his arm locked, torquing it at an angle that would dislocate his shoulder if she pushed any harder.
Viktor went still as the room went quiet.
Ravena held the lock, breathing hard, something wild and unfamiliar singing through her veins. She hadn't thought about those moves. Hadn't planned them. They'd just... happened. Like her body had known all along and was finally done waiting for her brain to catch up.
"Good." Her mother's voice was strange. Thick. "That's good, baby. Now let him go."
Ravena didn't let go. Her hands were shaking again, but not from exhaustion this time. From something else. Something that felt like power and terror all tangled together.
"Ravena." Softer now. Her mother's hand on her shoulder, warm and steady.
"Let go."
She released Viktor. He stepped back, rubbing his throat, and for the first time since they'd started, he looked at her differently. Not like a student but more like a threat.
"Where did that come from?" Ravena whispered.
Her mother turned her around, gripped her shoulders, looked her dead in the eyes.
"That came from you. That's what's been inside you this whole time." A pause. Something complicated moved across her face…..pride, fear, grief.
"You're more like me than I wanted you to be."
"Is that bad?"
Seraphina didn't answer. Instead, she pulled Ravena close, a real hug, the first in months….and held her so tight it hurt.
"Fear is a tool," she murmured into Ravena's hair.
"It's supposed to make you faster. Sharper. But only if you control it." She pulled back, hands framing Ravena's bruised face.
"The second you let them see it, the second you let them own it—"
"They've already won," Ravena finished.
"That's right." Her mother smiled. Sad and proud and something else Ravena couldn't name.
"Never let them own your fear, baby. Promise me."
"I promise."
"No matter what happens. No matter who comes for you. You fight, and you survive, and you never let them see you break."
"I won't."
Seraphina studied her for a long moment. Then she kissed her forehead gentle, like she used to when Ravena was small, and stepped back.
"That's enough for tonight. Go get cleaned up. There's food in the kitchen."
Ravena nodded, suddenly exhausted again. She turned toward the door.
"Ravena."
She looked back.
Her mother stood in the center of the training ring, arms crossed, face unreadable. But her eyes, her eyes were bright and wet.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "For all of this. For what I've made you become."
Ravena didn't know what to say. So she just nodded again and walked away.
She didn't know it then, but that would be the last real conversation she'd have with her mother for years. Within a month, Seraphina would be dead—or so Ravena would believe. Within a year, Ravena's memories would be wiped clean, her brother erased, her entire identity rebuilt from scratch.
........
Present Moment
"....messaging? Who were you messaging?"
The voice shattered the memory like a brick through glass.
Ravena??...Ave….gasped, the present rushing back in a nauseating wave. The study. The computer screen, now dark. The taste of copper on her tongue where she'd bitten her cheek.
Denise standing in the doorway, her laptop clutched in his white-knuckled hands, his face twisted into something she'd never seen before. Not the patient husband. Not the concerned partner.
Something that looked at her like she was a problem to be solved.
"I asked you a question." His voice was quiet. Controlled. The voice of a man who already knew the answer and was deciding what to do about it.
"Who. Were. You. Messaging."
Behind him, shadows moved. The tactical team, still waiting.
Ave's heart was pounding. Her hands were shaking. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight, to do something…..
But her mother's voice echoed in her skull, steady as a heartbeat:
Never let them own your fear.
She met Denise's eyes.
And smiled.
"Wouldn't you like to know."