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YASMINE
Yasmine woke sweating and tangled in the sheets, fragments of the nightmare still clinging to her.
She sat up, her heart thrashing out a staccato rhythm like it was trying to escape her chest.
Breathe. Find your center. Bring…
But she could still see his eyes, glowing yellow in his gaunt young face.
She watched, helpless, as the light of life faded from them.
If only it was an actual nightmare, and not a real memory.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus, but somehow, she could still hear the frantic shouts of her troop in her mind. The tone of their screams shifting from terrified to triumphant when her blaster found its mark.
Breathe. Find your center. Bring order to your thoughts.
She slid out of bed and onto the floor, stretching her body, willing her physical movements to bring her back to the present.
Most times it worked. But sometimes it didn’t. And those were the days when she couldn’t get back up off the floor.
You have new responsibilities now. You have children to look after.
Somehow, she convinced her legs to straighten and her hands to slide down to her toes. A trickle of endorphin found its way into her bloodstream, allowing her to continue with her the next stretch.
Take it one stretch at a time.
It was the same advice she gave her elderly friends back at the nursing home, though they were working past sore hips and trick knees, not the crushing guilt that paralyzed Yasmine’s muscles and mind.
Pain is pain.
Her own teacher had told her that. But there was a difference between guilt and arthritis. And even if Tai Chi helped with both, she often felt underserving. Why should she taste peace in her own life when she had taken someone else’s?
But her body was coming back to her now, the pain of guilt breaking up and being carried away by her deep breaths.
Taking care of this family is a way to begin balancing the scales. They need you.
She got herself through basic stretches and into the more complicated movements.
The pale pink light of dawn was streaming through the windows now, lending her energy as she breathed her way through the last of her morning forms.
She moved into the sit-ups and pushups she’d done every morning in the service.
When that was done, she had worked up a light sweat and was panting slightly. Back home, she would have gone for a run. Completely depleting herself physically usually cleared the cobwebs from her mind and left her in a state of near euphoria.
But she couldn’t exactly just go running around the grounds. She would either set off security alerts, or jog right into the middle of some kind of summit.
She settled for a steaming hot shower instead. While she cleaned up and got dressed, she thought about the kids’ morning routine. She had been given a rundown of what time everyone had to be awake and when Jax had to get to school and Pia to the co-op play group.
But she had no idea what that time would be like. Would the kids get up cheerfully? What did they eat for breakfast? Did they have special rituals? The manual said rituals were especially important for small children.
One she was dressed and ready, she headed to Jax’s room. She figured Pia would be easier to wake up, but a teenaged boy might need more time.
“What?” Jax mumbled from behind the door when she knocked.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re up and getting ready for school,” Yasmine called out cheerfully.
“I’m up,” he moaned.
