Chapter 1: A Sad Farewell

Jasmine's POV

I stood in the parking lot of the training center, clutching the silver necklace my teammates had just given me. My fingers traced the tiny gymnast charm, its familiar shape a painful reminder of everything I was about to leave behind.

"You'll always be part of the team, Jasmine," Coach had said, her usually stern voice wavering. But we both knew that wasn't true. After today, I wouldn't be part of anything anymore.

I heard quick footsteps behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was – I'd recognize those steps anywhere after fourteen years of training together.

"Jasmine, wait!" Thomas's voice broke through the quiet. He was still in his training gear, chest heaving slightly from running after me. "You can't just leave like this. Not after everything."

I couldn't look at him. If I did, all my resolve would crumble. We'd grown up together in this gym, shared every triumph and failure since we were four years old.

"You don't have to go," he said, moving closer. "Boston has plenty of great universities. Your grades are excellent. We could..." He trailed off, and I saw the unspoken words in his eyes. We could have a future together.

My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him everything – about William's threats, about how this wasn't my choice, about how desperately I wished I could stay. But I couldn't drag Thomas into this nightmare. He deserved better than to be caught up in my family's darkness.

Instead, I hugged him tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of chalk and sweat that always clung to him after practice. For a moment, I let myself imagine a different future – one where we'd go to college together, maybe even compete in the Olympics as partners.

"Jasmine..." Thomas's voice was barely a whisper. "What aren't you telling me?"

The 86 bus rumbled past the center, my cue to leave. Before I could think better of it, I quickly pressed my lips to Thomas's cheek. "Goodbye," I whispered, then turned and ran toward the bus stop, refusing to look back. I couldn't bear to see his expression.

Halfway home, I got off the bus. I needed to walk, needed to clear my head. The streets of Brookline were quiet in the early evening, but my mind was screaming. My teammates' goodbye party kept replaying in my head – their tearful hugs, their confusion about my sudden departure, the way Coach had squeezed my shoulder when words failed her.

World champion gymnast Jasmine Hamilton, retiring at eighteen to get married. The cover story William had fabricated sounded absurd even in my head. But it was better than the truth – that my own stepfather was trading me away like a piece of property.

The smell of pot roast hit me as soon as I opened the front door. Mom always made it for special occasions, though I couldn't see what was worth celebrating today. William was already at the dining table, looking irritatingly pleased with himself.

"Finally decided to show up," he sneered, as if we were about to have a normal family dinner. "I was just telling your mother about the arrangements. The Mitchells even agreed to let you continue your little gymnastics hobby in New York. Quite generous of them, wouldn't you say?"

Something inside me snapped. "Generous?" My voice trembled with rage. "You think letting me continue the sport I've dedicated my entire life to is generous?"

"Watch your tone, young lady." William's voice carried that familiar edge of threat. "This arrangement is more than you deserve—"

"More than I deserve?" The words exploded out of me as I slammed my hands on the table. "What exactly do I deserve, William? To be sold off like cattle? To have my entire life destroyed because you can't pay your own debts?"

"You ungrateful little—"

"Ungrateful?" I laughed, and it sounded hysterical even to my own ears. Tears were streaming down my face now, but I didn't care. "What exactly should I be grateful for? The years of watching you terrorize my mother?Or maybe I should thank you for treating me like your personal ATM?"

"That's enough!" William lunged forward so fast I barely had time to react. He grabbed my arm and slammed me against the wall, pressing my face against the cold surface. "You think you're special because of a few shiny medals? This is reality, Jasmine. You'll do exactly as you're told, or—"

"Or what?" I tried to push back despite the pain. "I won't let you do this! I have my own life, my own career. I'll go to the police, I'll tell everyone what you're doing—"

He pressed harder, making me wince. "Listen very carefully," he whispered, his voice dripping with menace. "Tomorrow morning, you're going to New York. You're going to do exactly as you're told. Or your mother might have some very unfortunate accidents. Do you understand?"

"Jasmine, please..." Mom's quiet voice barely registered. She hadn't looked up from her plate once.

I didn't say anything more. Looking at Mom's defeated posture made my whole body feel heavy, as if I was sinking into an endless void. William released me as soon as he finished his threat. I fled to my room

A soft knock on my door made me freeze.

"Jasmine?" Mom's voice was barely audible. "I... I left some ice pack on the dresser. For your... for your face."

I wanted to scream at her, ask her why she never stood up to him, why she let this happen. Instead, I heard myself whisper, "Did you know? About the arrangement... did you know all along?"