“No, I will not allow my daughter to put herself into anymore danger.” My father came stomping down the path and I looked up in surprise. He looked furious.
His voice held a weight that silenced everyone around us. I looked up at him, confusion mingling with frustration. “Father, this isn’t just about just me anymore. Yelda won’t wait for me to be ready. We can’t afford to be passive.”
He shook his head, his brow furrowed. “You don’t understand, Eliza. Training requires more than just a will to fight. It demands discipline, patience, and above all—safety. I won’t risk losing you.”
My heart raced at his protective words. I understood his intentions, but meant to protect me. Yet I couldn’t ignore the gnawing sensation at the pit of my stomach that warned of the darkness closing in on us
