Sweat trickled down her forehead, dripping onto the wooden floor of the ring. The blinding light above cast a sharp shadow across her focused face. Her fists, clenched inside red gloves, looked like two burning flames—ready to ignite.

But in the corner of the ring stood a man whose eyes showed nothing but worry: Coach Jackson. His graying hair, deeply furrowed brow, and hand pressed tightly to his chest all screamed that he didn’t want this fight to happen.

— “No, Emma! I won’t let you!”

Coach’s deep, angry voice echoed through the dimly lit arena. Emma, her golden ponytail still untouched by sweat, took her eyes off her opponent and locked them onto his.

— “You’re not here to let me or not, Jackson. I’m back. This fight is mine.”