If only it wasn’t for my fear. Not to mention how strange this all feels and how sudden. Not that my mother is notorious for making the best choices, but this is over the top even for her. Is she this desperate to escape our old life? I guess so, and that’s my fault, too. I’m sure if I ever complained, she would throw that in my face. If it wasn’t for you getting hurt and everything that came afterward… I don’t even want to think about it.

Stepping out of the shower, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My long reddish hair is caked to my neck and shoulder. My green eyes are framed with pale lashes that can barely be seen unless I put mascara on. Just as I reach for a towel, the reflection in the shower stall catches my eye. The way I’m standing lets me get a good look at my back. I rarely look at the ugly scar I’m left with, mostly because I don’t need the reminder of it all.

“Come on, Leni, one more time.” Coach has been pushing me hard this week. “I know you can do this. You have to nail that landing.”

“You got this, babe!” my mom yells from the sideline.

Drowning out everything around me, I run toward the high bars. My mind is laser-focused, every muscle in my body taut as I use the small trampoline to jump up and grab the lower bar. Using my momentum, I swing around the low bar. I let go at just the right moment, launching into a full twist before catching the high bar. I continue my routine perfectly. Then go for the dismount. Knowing I have to let go at the perfect time to make a backflip with a one-and-a-half twist work. I spin around one last time, not knowing it would be my indefinite last time.

I let go of the bar half a second too early, maybe even less than that, but it’s enough to mess up the trajectory. My body twists in the air, and I know I’m going to hit the mat before I do. What I didn’t know was how hard I would hit it.

For a moment, everything goes black. When I come to, I’m in the most excruciating pain of my life. It feels like someone has cut my back open and is digging through it with claws. The pain is so severe I can’t breathe. My vision is blurry, and all I can hear is my mom’s sobbing voice telling me everything is going to be okay.

She lied. After my accident, nothing was okay.