Eli nodded.
"Good."
He started walking.
Marcus called again.
"You scared?"
Eli stopped.
Nia squeezed his hand.
Eli looked at her.
Then back at Marcus.
"No."
"Then prove it."
Raymond stepped forward.
"Marcus, that's enough."
Marcus lifted his hands.
"I'm only joking."
Eli looked at Raymond.
"Is he?"
Raymond didn't answer immediately.
The boy's question was simple.
But something in his voice wasn't.
Raymond finally said:
"Go home, Eli."
Eli nodded.
"Okay."
He left.
Marcus watched him disappear through the doors.
"Strange kid."
Raymond looked at him.
"Leave him alone."
"Why?"
"Because you don't know him."
Marcus laughed.
"I know enough."
Raymond's expression hardened.
"No. You don't."
Marcus shrugged.
"Whatever."
But after everyone left, Raymond remained alone in the gym.
He walked to the equipment room.
Opened an old metal cabinet.
Inside was a photograph.
A younger Raymond stood beside a man named Daniel Carter.
Eli's father.
Raymond stared at the photograph.
Daniel had once been one of the best martial artists Raymond had ever known.
Not because he won the most trophies.
Because he understood something few fighters ever learned.
Control.
Patience.
Timing.
Daniel had disappeared from the martial arts world thirteen years earlier.
Raymond hadn't heard his name spoken in years.
Until Eli walked into the gym.
The next morning, Raymond received a message.
Eli's here.
He found the boy sitting alone in the empty gym.
No music.
No students.
No audience.
Just Eli.
He was practicing footwork.
Slowly.
Precisely.
Raymond watched for almost a minute.
"Who taught you that?"
Eli stopped.