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“Hey, Grace. Are you alright?”
Seriously?
“Yeah… I’m fine.”
Of course, she wasn’t fine.
“You don’t look fine. You’re really sure you’re okay after something like that?”
She’d almost died.
Grace Madison wasn’t a stranger to danger. Both on and off the golf course, she’d gotten into her fair share of scraps, and she’d suffered her fair share of scrapes as a result. She’d seen her life put at legitimate risk.
But therein lies the keyword: ‘seen.’ Grace Madison had seen those brushes with death coming. Not so much the case in that godforsaken courtroom. Sure, outright assaulting her and hers’ goat-masked kidnapper… Look, Grace wasn’t stupid, okay? She’d known attacking Tozu was a gamble. She’d just been willing to take it.
And she would've died. If Tozu’s hidden enforcer had willed it—if her bullet had been aimed so much as an inch to the left—Grace’s brains would’ve painted the podiums before they could process what had happened. No ifs, ands or buts. No ability, no option, no chance to overcome the danger with guts and grit, like Grace had always done before. She would have died, right then and there, just like any other no-name walking a mile in her shoes.
It scared her. That infuriated her.
No, she wasn’t alright. She wasn’t fine, she wasn’t okay, she wasn't any other goddamn synonym you wanna think of.
But she would be.
She had to be.
“I said what I meant. Now stop gabbing, and let’s get to frying bigger fish.”
Had to be stronger than this.
"Grace, wait!"
Had to be better than this.