Day three dawned clear and cold. The storm had passed, leaving everything sharp edged and crystalline. Perfect visibility. Perfect tracking conditions.
Perfect for a confrontation.
Aria went through her morning routine like a condemned prisoner's last meal. Every moment felt significant. Every sensation felt heightened.
Training with Marcus was gentle, focused more on meditation and centering than combat. "You are as prepared as you can be," he said. "Now you just need to trust your training."
Breakfast with Cassidy was quiet. They did not need words. Just sat together, mother and daughter, holding hands across the table.
"I love you," Cassidy said finally. "No matter what happens today. I love you, and I am proud of you."
"I love you too, Mama," Aria whispered.
The healing house opened on schedule. Aria treated morning patients with mechanical efficiency. Her awareness stretched thin trying to monitor everything at once.
