But as they drove away from the school, Chase's phone buzzed with notifications: his social media accounts flooded with messages, the video clips already going viral. By morning, their names would be trending for all the wrong reasons.
Amara's return home that night was quiet, the emotional toll of the evening settling over her like a heavy cloak. Her father made hot chocolate, an old comfort from her childhood.
"You did well," he said simply.
"It doesn't feel like a victory," Amara admitted.
"The best ones rarely do." He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Get some rest. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges."
She had just changed into her pajamas when her phone buzzed with an automated news alert: Breaking: Vandalism and break-in at local residence. The address was her own.
The house was in disarray: furniture overturned, Amara's training equipment destroyed, windows broken. But worst of all was the crude message spray-painted on the living room wall, and the sight of her father sitting in an ambulance with a bandage around his head.
"Dad!" Amara rushed to his side, hands reaching for him with unerring accuracy.
"I'm all right," he assured her, though the pain in his voice betrayed him. "Just a glancing blow when I surprised them."
A police officer stood nearby, notebook in hand. "Mr. Marshall says there were three intruders. He confronted them, and one struck him with what appeared to be a baseball bat before they fled."
"Did you see their faces?" Amara asked her father.
"Masks," he replied grimly. "But one of them was wearing a letterman jacket, Grafton Academy colors."
The officer continued, "The message on your wall... it's threatening in nature: 'Stay blind, girl.' Given recent events at the school, we're taking this very seriously."
"They destroyed my gi," Amara said quietly. "Cut it to pieces."
Later that night, Amara sat beside her father's hospital bed, his steady breathing the only sound in the room. The doctors had insisted on keeping him overnight for observation: a mild concussion, they said. Nothing too serious, but better safe than sorry.