Flashback ( PDFDrive )

Then he stepped aside.
Her turn.
And it became a lot harder to breathe.
Moving wasn’t any easier.
But she let her memory of Umber’s cruel laugh carry her forward.
“Wrong,” Sandor told her when she’d barely taken a step. “You’re
forgetting which arm is holding the weapon.”
She was.
Even with her right arm strapped in a sling, her brain still defaulted
to it.
This was so much harder than she’d thought it would be.
“Okay,” she said, squaring her shoulders and tightening her grip on
the dagger as she shifted her weight the other way.
In the same motion, she lunged forward, reached up, and slashed
her dagger. “Like that?”
“You were supposed to strike the dummy,” Sandor noted.
“You didn’t,” she argued.
“That’s because I want you to make the first slice. It will feel very
close to reality.”
When he put it like that, she really, really, really didn’t want to do
it. But that was exactly the kind of weakness the Neverseen were
always calling her out on.
So she focused on the painted eyes, channeling her hate and fury
into her lunge as she slashed across the dummy’s neck, feeling a
sickening squish as the blade sank into the cloth—followed by a burst
of horrifying red.
The dagger slipped from her grasp and she screamed and stumbled
back. But she couldn’t stop the splatter from hitting her hand. Her