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The first thing she figures out is that punching bags don’t work like that. You’re supposed to have someone to hold them for you, or they swing around and there’s no way to finish even a short combination.

Boxing trainers being in short supply at girls’ boarding schools, Proserpina begins to consider conspirators. Most of her classmates are plainly unsuitable, but there is one close-mouthed girl who watches everything with long dark eyes. Tall enough to hold a bag, and sure-footed in field hockey. A glint of rebellion. An ironic wit.

The other girl’s name, she learns, is Radiane.