Page 13 of I See You

"And Jada, baby," Sevyn continued, her voice softening, "you’re the strongest person I know."

Jada didn’t say anything, but the way her shoulders loosened, even slightly, was enough.

Sevynfinallypulledback,grabbingthesoccerballfromthe passenger seat and tossing it between her hands.

"You ready for today’s session?" she asked, her tone light, inviting. Jada hesitated.

Then nodded.

Sevyn knew she was skeptical, but that was okay.

They had only been working together for two weeks—this was just their fourth session. Healing wasn’t instant. It wasn’t linear. It was slow, unsteady, and required patience.

Jada had once lived for soccer. It had been her everything. Her passion. Her escape. But she hadn’t touched a ball since the night her world shattered.

That night still lived inside her.

She and herteammateshad beencelebrating—celebrating—aftera major victory, their energy electric, their laughter spilling into the night air. The future had felt big, limitless. Then came the gunshots. The screams. The sound of bodies hitting the ground.

Jada had watched her best friends bleed out, their bodies riddled with bullets, their faces frozen in shock and pain. If it hadn’t been fora stranger—a random guy who grabbed her, pulled her out before the chaos swallowed her whole—she would’ve been one of them.

But survival came with its own scars.

Even now, she could still hear the desperate gasps for air, see the blood pooling beneath them, feel the guilt wrapping itself around her throat like an iron grip.

Since that night, she never picked up a soccer ball again. It didn’t feel right without them. Didn’t feel real stepping onto a field, knowing they never would again. But today, Sevyn wasn’t here to force her to play.

She was here to try.

To remind her what it felt like to move. To breathe. To live.

They walked toward the large, empty soccer field, the wind blowing gently through the air, lifting Sevyn’s ponytail as she took in the peacefulness of the moment. The park was quiet—just the two of them, the open space, and the ball at Sevyn’s feet.

She started dribbling effortlessly, her movements smooth and controlled, the ball rolling with ease beneath her feet.

Jada watched, her lips tugging into a small smile.

"You played soccer?" she asked, a bit of excitement slipping into her tone as she observed Sevyn’s skillful footwork.

"Yeah, among other sports," Sevyn said with a light chuckle. "My mom put me in everything growing up."

Jada laughed softly, shaking her head as Sevyn passed the ball to her.

Themoment the ball reached Jada’s feet, something shifted.

Her body moved instinctively, muscle memory taking over as she maneuvered the ball with ease, her footwork still sharp despite the years of neglect.

Sevyn watched, noting the way Jada’s posture changed—the way her shoulders relaxed, the way her expression softened, the way her love for the game peeked through even if she didn’t realize it yet.

"Alright, let’s start with something simple—just a few passes," Sevyn coached, keeping her voice light and easy. "Don’t overthink it. Just move."

Jada nodded, dribbling the ball back toward Sevyn, her movements growing more fluid with every touch.

For the first time since their sessions started, Jada looked like herself.

Like the girl who used to love this sport.

But then, her expression shifted, her shoulders tensing slightly as she passed the ball back.

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