And in the corner of her dark bedroom, her own shadow—still moving. Still punching. Still fighting a battle that torrent had never ended. Only passed on.
But the next track was her favorite: the fighting drill. She hit play. Les Mills Body Combat Torrent--------
With the last shred of will, she threw her laptop across the room. It hit the wall and the screen shattered. The sound died. The thrumming stopped. Maya collapsed onto her mat, gasping, her limbs trembling with exhaustion and something worse: a strange, euphoric lightness. Her muscles were stronger than they’d ever been. Her heart pounded like a war drum. And in the corner of her dark bedroom,
Maya tried to stop. She couldn’t. Her legs were lunging. Her core was twisting. The torrent had taken her nervous system hostage. She was no longer doing Body Combat. Body Combat was doing her. Only passed on
“Round one,” Rach barked. “Power is nothing without control.”