Aiko blinked awake to find Ginger sitting cross-legged on her floor, flipping through one of her notebooks like it was a comic book.

  Her voice cracked groggily: “How did you even get in here?”

  Ginger smirked, shutting the pad. “I’ve got my ways. Let’s just say I get a little more freedom than most.”

  Malcolm’s name slipped into Aiko’s mind like a knife. She stretched, her body stiff from too many hours hunched over scribbles.

  “I’ve got something for you,” Ginger said, standing and brushing off her pants. “Meet me in the yard if you wanna see.”

  Aiko narrowed her eyes, but her curiosity burned. “…Fine. I’ll be there.”

  Ginger slipped out as easily as she came.

  Breakfast was the same slop. White mush. Aiko forced it down, ignoring the stares. The other girls kept their distance now.

  Good. Let them.

  She thought of her mom’s code, the endless paper. I’ll play along for now. But I need to know what Malcolm really wants.

  In the yard, the sun beat down, hot and merciless. Aiko spotted Ginger sparring—or trying to. Her balance was awful. Her arms flailed. The tall girl she was paired with looked bored.

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  Aiko frowned. Ugh. Her stance is all wrong.

  “You’re doing it wrong,” Aiko said, stepping into the ring.

  Ginger stepped aside, relief in her face. Aiko moved in, showing quick adjustments: “Keep your feet apart. Lower. Don’t lean so far. Like this.”

  A few girls wandered over to watch. Then one with a buzzcut and sharp eyes shoved forward.

  “You think you’re tough? Fight me.”

  Aiko sized her up—strong, confident, definitely dangerous. Her stomach tightened, but she held her ground. “Alright. Let’s see.”

  The circle widened.

  The girl—Dynamo—lunged hard. Aiko ducked, heart racing. Her body reacted on instinct. She blocked, countered, moved faster. Dynamo’s strikes were powerful, but Aiko was quicker. She felt the rhythm, slipping around hits, landing her own.

  Her chest burned, but she kept moving until Dynamo hit the ground, panting.

  For a moment, silence. Then Aiko offered her a hand. Dynamo glared, then finally grabbed it.

  “You just beat Dynamo,” Ginger whispered, wide-eyed. “She never loses.”

  Murmurs spread. Girls glanced at Aiko differently now—not with suspicion, but with something closer to respect.

  Aiko’s cheeks flushed, though she tried to hide her smile.

  When the crowd broke up, Ginger bounded over, grinning. “You were amazing. I knew you had skills, but… wow.”

  Aiko shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Lots of practice.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go see your surprise.”

  Aiko followed her to a corner of the yard. A package sat tucked away. Ginger shoved it into her hands, her eyes glinting.

  Aiko tore it open. Inside: gloves, wraps, sleek shoes. Her breath caught. “Where… where did you get this?”

  Ginger’s grin turned sly. “Connections. Don’t worry about it. Just… call it a gift.”

  Aiko swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Just keep kicking butt.”

  Aiko slipped on the gloves, flexed her fingers. For the first time in weeks, she felt… like herself.

  “Let’s get to work,” she said.

  The sun dipped low, painting everything gold. For a second, Aiko thought she saw something move along the fence. She blinked, and it was gone. Just sunlight dancing on the yard.