At that moment the doctor lowered the chart slowly, her brows knitting. "That tells me one thing. Whoever hit you didn't strike recklessly. She targeted. It was deliberate, precise. That kind of strike isn't ordinary it takes skill, control, and frightening force. My only concern… and my greatest question is this how was she able to generate such magnitude of power in a single slap? This isn't normal human strength or is she a professional boxer or fight with the UFC."
The room seemed to shrink around them. Stella's father clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles white, his fury barely contained. Her mother held her breath, her face pale. And Benedict, already a man used to seeing battlefields, felt a strange chill creep down his spine.
