Chapter 9 - Return to the Mat
Monday morning arrived with crisp, bright autumn sunshine flooding through the windows of the Chicago Elite Syndicate Martial Arts Academy.
The wooden floors had been polished, the mirrors gleamed, and the air smelled of floor wax and fresh determination.
When the afternoon class began, twenty kids lined up along the edge of the tatami mat in their crisp white gis, bowing respectfully as Dad stepped onto the center platform.
Sitting on the wooden bench near the back wall, watching quietly, was a new face.
It wasn't Tyler Vance—rumor had it Richard Vance’s family had packed up and moved out of state over the weekend to escape the federal investigators circling their North Side mansion.
It was a quiet, timid boy named Leo from my old fourth-grade class who had spent the last year hiding behind lockers because older kids liked to knock his books down.
When class ended and the other students began packing their gear bags, Leo lingered by the doorway, clutching his backpack tightly against his chest.
I walked over, tying my black belt securely around my waist.
“Hey, Leo,” I said.
“Hi, Lily,” he whispered, looking down at his sneakers. “Everyone at school is talking about what you did to Tyler Vance. They said... they said you know karate.”
“It’s not karate, it’s mixed martial arts and judo,” I corrected gently with a smile. “And it’s not for showing off. It’s for keeping yourself and your friends safe.”
Leo looked up, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and hope. “Do you think... do you think Mr. Carter would let me join?”
May you like
I looked back toward the center of the gym, where Dad was rolling up the training mats with a calm, steady rhythm, the light catching the silver hair at his temples. He looked up, caught my eye, and gave me a slow, approving nod.
“I know he would,” I said, turning back to Leo with a bright smile. “Come on. I’ll show you where we keep the spare gis.”
