Derek nodded politely.
“Cool.”
Ryan continued.
“She says belts don’t matter.”
Maya turned her head.
“I did not say that.”
“You basically did.”
“No.”
“I said I didn’t care much about mine.”
Caleb, sitting nearby while wrapping his hands, glanced up.
“You’re translating badly.”
A few people laughed.
Ryan ignored them.
“What styles?”
Maya answered calmly.
“Karate.”
“Judo.”
“Some boxing.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow.
“All three?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
Across the gym, Thomas Reed heard the conversation.
He looked toward Maya.
Something about her face seemed familiar.
But he could not place it.
Ryan stepped onto the mat.
“Come on.”
Maya frowned.
“What?”
“Show us something.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m waiting for Thomas.”
Ryan smiled.
“You worried?”
“No.”
“Then pick somebody.”
Derek shook his head.
“Ryan, leave her alone.”
“I’m being friendly.”
Caleb tightened the tape around his wrist.
“No,” he said. “You’re performing.”
More laughter.
Ryan pointed at him.
“Fine.”
Then he pointed down the line.
“Caleb.”
“Derek.”
“Me.”
He looked at Maya.
“Pick one.”
And Maya had pointed at all three.
That was the exact moment Thomas Reed walked closer.
He looked at her.
Really looked.
Then his face changed.
“Maya?”
She sighed.
“Apparently.”
Thomas stared.
“Maya Bennett?”
Ryan looked between them.
“You know her?”
Maya rubbed her forehead.
“Apparently.”
Thomas laughed once in disbelief.
“What are you doing here?”
Maya pointed toward the box.
“I brought something that belonged to my father.”
Thomas stopped smiling.
The entire room seemed to disappear from his face.
“Anthony?”
Maya nodded.
“He died in March.”
Thomas lowered his head.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Thomas looked toward the box.
“What is it?”
“My father’s notebooks.”
His eyes widened.
Ryan’s curiosity returned immediately.
“Who was her father?”
Thomas ignored him.
Maya continued.
“He left a note. Said some of them should come here.”
Thomas whispered the name.
“Anthony Bennett.”
For several of the older students, the name meant something.
For Ryan, it meant nothing at all.
And that was about to become a problem.
The Name Nobody Mentioned
Thomas walked toward the cardboard box slowly.
He touched the top flap but did not open it.
“How many?” he asked.
“Seven notebooks. Two binders. A stack of old photographs.”
Thomas nodded.
For nearly thirty years, Anthony Bennett had written things down.
Training notes.
Lessons.
Observations.
Mistakes.
Names.
Sometimes only a sentence.
Sometimes pages.
Maya remembered seeing him at the kitchen table late at night, reading over old notebooks while drinking coffee that had long since gone cold.
She had never understood why.
Now she did.
Thomas looked at her.
“I thought he stopped writing.”
“He stopped showing people.”
That answer seemed to hurt him.
Ryan leaned against the wall.
“Okay,” he said. “Can someone explain who this guy was?”
Thomas turned.
For the first time that evening, his expression hardened.
“Anthony Bennett was my instructor.”
Ryan shrugged.
“So?”
Thomas stared at him.
Then he looked around the gym.
Some of the younger students had stopped pretending not to listen.
Thomas spoke quietly.
“Before Northgate existed, before I owned a gym, before I had a black belt, I trained in a small warehouse across town.”
Maya watched him.
“Anthony taught there.”
Ryan glanced toward the box.
“Was he famous?”
Thomas almost smiled.
“No.”
“Then why does everyone look like somebody died?”
Maya answered.
“Because somebody did.”
Ryan’s expression shifted.
Thomas took a breath.
“My teacher never cared about being famous.”
He looked toward Maya.
“He cared about making people better.”
Then he looked directly at Ryan.
“And he had a particular dislike for talented young men who confused ability with understanding.”
The room became very quiet.
Ryan forced a laugh.
“Sounds like I would’ve gotten along with him.”
“No,” Thomas said.
“You wouldn’t have.”
Caleb looked down, hiding a smile.
Ryan crossed his arms.