Page 40 of The Yoga Teacher

Carmen’s lips curved. "And then I clicked send. And nothing exploded."

Hannah let out a shaky breath, fingers drumming against the file in her hands.

She wanted to ask. How long had it taken? Did it get better?

Did you ever stop feeling like you were losing something you had already lost?

But Carmen just straightened, tapped the file in Hannah’s hands.

"Click send," she said simply. "The hardest part is the first step."

Then, she turned and walked out.

Hannah sat there.

Her heart was too loud.

Her hands too still.

She turned back to her laptop, staring at the poorly written email.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She lifted her hand.

Clicked send.

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Hannah unrolled her mat at the foot of the bed, the familiar rubbery scent rising to meet her.

The guest bedroom was tucked away at the end of Mia and James’s hallway. She sat cross-legged, hands resting lightly on her knees, breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth.

Yoga had always been her anchor. Her reset button.

It had seen her through stressful work weeks, sleepless nights, and every storm life had thrown at her. It had been hers—something no one else could touch, something that made her feel strong, present, whole.

She closed her eyes.Breathe, Hannah. Just breathe.

If she could just push through the first few poses, maybe it would click back into place. Maybe she could force her way into peace, into stillness, into something that didn’t hurt.

She shifted onto her hands and knees, easing into an easy pose, rolling through her spine, trying to summon even the smallest sliver of the peace this used to bring her.

It wasn’t working.

If she couldn’t even have this—this one thing that had always steadied her—what the hell did she have left?

She moved into the next position, pressing her heels toward the floor.

Her body moved out of muscle memory, but the sensation—the release, the grounding, the safety—wasn’t there.

Because shewasn’tsafe.

Not in her body. Not in her mind.

Hannah swallowed hard, her limbs shaking—not from the stretch, but from emotion.

She had spent years coming to this mat, finding herself here, again and again.

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