The next two weeks were hell for her. It's been exactly fourteen sunrises and sunsets since she had entered this strange, polished yet suffocating world.
A place that didn't smell like home, didn't sound like home, didn't feel like anything she had ever known.
Every dawn hell would break before the morning sun could rise at 6 a.m. sharp, Where J would appear in her room like a ghost who owned the house, knocking once, and counting to 3 then opening the door without waiting for an answer.
If she is ready for the excruciating training then it's fine but she not then hell will twice break on her.
So without a delay, every day she would drag herself out of bed and follow him to the training hall, half asleep, half annoyed, and fully confused about the future she has headed too.
Then J will start training her like she was going to war. Not casually, not gently, but like a blacksmith sharpening a blade.
