Mia looked at her. "You know Connie."
"I've known Connie since 1987," Foss said. "She was the one who brought Sandra to me in her first year. Drove her down from Delwood every weekend for training." She paused. "Connie was a boxer. Did she tell you that?"
"She told me," Mia said. "She didn't tell me much about the rest."
"She was one of the first women in Georgia to compete in boxing. Early '70s. Before the rules caught up to what women were actually capable of."
Foss's voice had something in it when she said this. A particular kind of respect that you didn't manufacture.
"She never got the credit she deserved for that. The world wasn't ready to give it. But she trained anyway. She competed anyway. And then she passed it to Sandra. And Sandra passed it to you."
Mia stood in the middle of the mats.
She was thinking about Connie in the backyard gym on Saturday mornings. How Mia had always just thought of it as what they did. Their thing. Their time together. She had never thought about where it came from. About the decades of history that had been folded into those Saturday mornings. About what it cost Connie to build that gym when the world she lived in told her women didn't belong in it.
"Three generations," Mia said.
"Three generations," Foss confirmed. "And every one of you chose it for yourselves. That's important. Connie didn't drag Sandra in here. Sandra didn't drag you to the mat. Each of you came to it on your own terms." She paused. "Even now."
Mia looked at the registration form on the office desk, visible through the open door. Her signature on it.
"Who's my opponent?" she asked.
"Dara Vas, 22. She trains at Meridian College in Savannah. She competed at a high club level before going collegiate. She's good, Mia. She's genuinely good."
"How did she end up in this?"
Foss's expression shifted slightly. "Reese's people approached Meridian's athletic department about a special invitation slot. Paid entry fee. Travel expenses covered. They wanted someone who would be a credible opponent on paper, but could be managed." She paused. "I don't think Dara knows that. I think she thinks she's just been invited to compete. But the arrangement behind it is: Reese walks away with the title. It's been set up that way."
Mia absorbed that. "So she's not corrupt," Mia said. "Just being used."
"As far as I can tell. Yes."
Mia thought about that. About Dara Vas at Meridian, training without knowing she was a prop in someone else's arrangement. It made the thing more complicated, and also, somehow, more clear.