Ellie’s POV
The closer the ball came, the heavier my chest felt. Every morning I woke up with doubt pressing down on me, whispering things I didn’t want to hear. I kept seeing Claire’s face in my mind—her weak smile, the baby in Fiona’s arms, the way her eyes looked too tired, too hollow. I wanted to trust her, I really did, but something inside me kept pulling back.
That morning, my feet carried me to the training grounds before I even realized it. The noise hit me first—grunts, the smack of fists against flesh, the thud of bodies hitting the ground. Dust rose from the dirt floor as men circled each other, sweat glistening on their arms.
At the center of it all was John.
He moved like he owned the space, his strikes quick, sharp, too precise. He knocked one man down, then twisted to b
