Chapter 40. Cassian’s Gesture

The city was too quiet that morning.

Not peaceful—just muted, like it was holding its breath.

Lia woke before dawn, body already taut with the residue of training. The ache in her muscles had changed lately. It wasn’t exhaustion anymore; it was structure. Something rebuilding itself under the skin.

Rafa had texted her the night before: Rest tomorrow. Systems consolidate better when you stop interfering.

She hadn’t replied. She wasn’t good at resting.

The gym felt different without him there. The air colder. The rhythm off. She moved through her drills anyway, alone again, the echo of gloves against pads filling the empty space.

The light through the windows was pale and thin. Dust motes floated in straight lines, catching each exhale.

She struck the pad again. The sound was clean, centered, controlled.

Rafa’s method had taught her precision, but the silence between hits reminded her of something else—Cassian’s voice, his rhyth