Eleanor
For one fragile heartbeat, relief crashed over me like a wave—tears stinging my eyes, my chest loosening as if I could finally breathe again.
Then they shattered it.
Laughter exploded from the group, harsh and mocking. One of the boys—the same one I’d scratched—stepped forward, rolling his shoulders like he was ready for a brawl.
“So what are you gonna do about it, pimp?” he taunted, striding toward the hooded figure with lazy confidence.
The stranger said nothing.
He simply tilted his head from side to side, the soft crack of his neck the only sound in the sudden hush.
The boy lunged.
What happened next stole the air from every lung.
Without so much as flinching, the hooded man caught him mid-air with a single, brutal strike—fist connecting like thunder. The boy flew back
