"By someone new? You mean someone Black?" Amaya said flatly.
Grace had the decency to look ashamed. "It's not right. Not everyone thinks that way. I promise."
"Enough do," Amaya replied, putting her phone away. "And the rest just watch."
That night, Amaya sat on the back porch, watching as her father cleaned his service pistol, a ritual he performed every Friday night, more out of habit than necessity now.
"Dad," she said hesitantly. "How did you deal with it in the Navy? I mean, being one of the few Black SEALs?"
Elijah's hands stilled. "Who's giving you trouble?"
"Just some kids at school. Anonymous texts." She showed him her phone.
Elijah's jaw tightened as he read the messages. For a moment, Amaya saw a flash of the warrior her father had been—still was—underneath the calm exterior he maintained.
"Listen to me," he said, setting the gun aside. "People fear what they don't understand, and sometimes that fear makes them cruel." He took her hand. "But you are a Walker. You come from a long line of people who refuse to break no matter what life threw at them."
He went inside and returned with a small box. From it, he removed a set of dog tags. "These were mine from my first deployment," he said, placing them around her neck. "When things get tough, remember: they fear what they don't understand. Let's make sure they never figure you out."
Amaya clutched the tags. "I won't let them win."
"I know you won't," Elijah said with a fierce pride in his eyes.
Across town, in the basement of the Carson family's sprawling colonial home, Brett was holding court with his friends. Empty beer cans littered the coffee table, and music played softly in the background.
"She's making us look bad," Brett was saying, his words slightly slurred. "Coach is acting like she's the second coming of cheerleading Jesus or something."
"She is pretty good," Kyle admitted, earning a glare from Brett.
"That's not the point," Brett snapped. "She needs to learn her place."
Troy, the most volatile of the group, leaned forward. "So, what are we going to do about it?"
Brett's mouth curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I've got some ideas. Let's remind her whose turf this is."
The others exchanged glances: Mason looking uncomfortable, Kyle uncertain, Troy eager. But none of them challenged Brett. They never did.