𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?| Robby Keene & Eli Moskowitz [COMPLETED]

𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. where loyalties lie

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT,
WHERE LOYALTIES LIE

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The dojo pulsed with quiet energy, alive with the soft rhythm of shuffling feet and the steady cadence of deep, deliberate breaths. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the wide windows, bathing the polished wood floor in warm gold. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, caught in the glow, while the fresh scent of pine cleaner still clung to the recently scrubbed mats. It was peaceful-the kind of peace that settled in your chest and made everything outside the dojo feel a thousand miles away.

Cameron sat cross-legged on the grass patch just outside the mat, her palms pressed to the earth as she eased herself into a deep forward stretch. Her fingers brushed her toes with practiced ease, her movements smooth and precise.

Just a few feet away, Sam perched on the grass with the same dancer-like grace she always carried, her hair half up, half down, swaying in the breeze that came through the dojo's open door. Always the first to break the silence during stretches, she glanced around at everyone, eyes bright.

"I heard Aisha got into UC Santa Cruz," Sam said with a wide, proud smile, clearly trying to lift the mood.

Arabella perked up immediately, her whole face lighting up. "That's awesome!" she said, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. "She's gonna love it there. That school's, like, right on the beach. It's so chill."

Cameron, still folded forward, raised her head just enough to deadpan, "Great. Now she can study marine biology while fighting off seagulls and frat boys."

Arabella snorted, trying to muffle her laugh with the back of her hand. "Oh my God."

Sam shook her head with a grin, but her gaze flicked to Miguel, who stood nearby, his hands braced on his hips as he leaned into a stretch. His brow was furrowed, eyes locked on the floor like he was trying to melt a hole through it. The usual spark behind his expression was dim, like a light turned down too low.