My stomach was churning and full of knots the entire drive to the Lima Academy on Monday morning. I didn’t even know why I was so nervous. I knew how to manage the Academy. I’d grown up looking over my father’s shoulder as he ran the business.

Today was such a big deal.

I could buy so many more purses with my new salary.

And Rhage could start eating Fancy Feast.

But I was still as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I’d woken up about an hour earlier than necessary, which meant I had time to style my hair, something I normally didn’t do when I went to work. Dressing in the wide-leg black trousers I’d picked last night, I paired them with a deep maroon blouse with lacy sleeves I found this morning. I still had more than enough time to make the drive from my apartment off of Del Mar Orchard Road to where the Lima Academy was situated a few miles outside of Shepherdstown, between the University and Martinsburg.

The Academy was located about a mile off of Route 45, beyond a sub-division and a small farm. I’d seen it a hundred times since it opened, but I couldn’t help but feel awed when the sprawling, three-story building came into view.

This was my father’s, but it was also mine.

The first floor was the state-of-the-art gym open to public membership. It came complete with separate rooms for classes, an indoor Olympic pool, sauna and whirlpool rooms, childcare for those working out, and of course, several tanning rooms, because why have all those sleek muscles and be pasty white? I rolled my eyes at that.

The second floor was dedicated to various martial arts classes, ranging from classes for kids who were interested in karate, to those serious about learning jiu jitsu, grappling (both standing and on the ground), striking, and so on, and of course, a training center for those looking to pursue a career in the mixed martial arts. Self-defense classes were also held on the second floor. There was a lot of available space on the second floor, and that was what my father had wanted me to focus on.

The top floor was offices—where my office would be located.

This was my family’s legacy.

And it was a part of mine.

I’d once told my friend Abby that I didn’t want to do what my family did, but that had been a lie in the end. Maybe at that time I was going through some stage in life where I wanted to rebel against everything and everyone, but deep down I always wanted to be a part of it. So pulling into the parking spot was almost like I was finally, finally coming home.