Thalia stood up so fast the chair toppled backward.
I looked at my hand. It didn't hurt.
And that was the strange part.
I hadn't given it everything I had. Not even close. And still, it felt like I'd hit him with a sledgehammer.
Some people stopped talking. Others pretended they hadn't seen anything. But a guy at the next table stood up, frowning — maybe a friend of the old man. Another, further back, started moving toward us with the posture of someone who wanted revenge or just needed an excuse.
And that's when I understood.
It had started.
I didn't want to fight.
Really.
But sometimes the world takes the choice out of your hand — and puts a clenched fist in it instead.
The first one came fast. Big guy, short neck, dockworker's face. Shirt unbuttoned to the belly, reeking of old beer. Thought being big meant he could intimidate.
He was wrong.
