“Is that considered a knock out?” Memo asked.

“No,” her dad said immediately. “It’s a knock down and he got back up.”

“It’s a standing eight,” Hector said, his eyes still glued to the screen. “But it’s still gonna cost him two points. That’s huge. He’s got a lot to make up for now.”

Just then Felix landed one. A good one and it rattled Grecco.

“That’s it!” Hector yelled, jumping in place. “C’mon, baby!”

But just when Felix began to gain some momentum, the bell went off. Ella had never been so nervous in her life, not even during her stay in the hospital this week. She’d been too out of it to be nervous. When her mother was ill, she’d been too numb, and when Memo was going through his nightmare after killing that guy, she’d been too full of adrenaline and determination to save him to have time to feel nervous. Now she was completely nervous.

The camera and mics picked up on the conversation in Felix’s corner. “You gotta knock him out,” Noah was saying.

The commentators agreed at that point that Felix was behind. There were only three rounds left, and he really needed to win them. Inevitably, the tabloids had gotten wind of Ella being sick and the commentators spoke of that too, saying it had to be taking a toll on Felix’s mental focus.

Again the awkwardness in the room was heavy, but thankfully the bell rang and the focus was back on the fight. Felix came out on fire. Whatever else Noah and Gio had said to him must’ve worked because he immediately had Grecco against the ropes.

“Do it, baby!” Hector yelled, jabbing his fists in the air. “Knock that fucker out!”

Everyone else in the room chanted, equally enthused, and Isidora promptly left the room again.

Ella sat up straighter, hopeful that Grecco might go down because, for a moment, he seemed to lose his footing but was able to use the ropes to stay up.

“Keep hitting him!” Hector yelled, but the ref separated them. “Aw c’mon!”

The second they were able to, the boxers began again, and this time they both went at it. Each landed a few, but Felix landed some good ones. Everyone in that place was going wild just as everyone in the room was too. The only time Hector even sat he’d been at the edge of his seat, yelling his lungs out. The bell rang just as Felix landed another good one.

“Okay, he got that one,” Hector said, clapping his hands. “But I still think he needs to knock him out.”

Ella brought her hands to her mouth, lacing them tightly as she tried in vain to keep her leg from shaking nervously. Once again, Felix came out on a mission, but Grecco backed away each time Felix neared him.

“Look at him!” Hector held his hand out toward the TV, disgusted. “He’s running!”

“Why’s he doing that?” Ella asked.

“Because his corner thinks he’s got this,” Hector explained, still unable to pull his eyes away from the screen. “And they probably told him to just stay away from Felix.”

Felix ran Grecco into a corner and started pounding him.

“Yeah!” Hector jumped up and down. “Get ’im, baby! Get ’im! Knock his ass down.”

Grecco wrapped his arms around Felix, trying to slow down Felix’s momentum.

“Get him off you!” Hector yelled.

The ref separated them, and Grecco was able to get out of the corner, but Felix landed another just as Grecco began walking away, and Grecco fell on his knee.

“Yes!” Hector jumped even higher. “Finish him!”

The ref came in between them, forcing Felix away, and began counting. Grecco was slower to get up than Felix had been, but he got back up. Just like with Felix the ref asked Grecco something and he nodded.

“Finish him,” Hector said. “He’s tired now. Go at him hard.”

The ten-second warning bell rang, and the two battled it out hard, making the crowd go wild again. Felix landed the last one before the bell, making Grecco stumble.

Hector ran his hands down his face, clearly still nervous about this even though Felix had done so well in that last round.

“What do you think?” Memo asked, and Ella stared at Hector, anxious to hear his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” he said, bringing his hands to his waist and doing a little pacing himself. “He’s doing well now, but I don’t know if it’s enough. Grecco may’ve gotten a lot of those first rounds.”

The commentators announced the score, and Grecco was barely ahead. The cameras went over to Grecco’s corner where you could hear his trainers telling a very tired-looking Grecco that he had it.

“Yeah, he has it,” Hector said, shaking his head, “if his pussy ass keeps running.”

Ella couldn’t blame Hector for being pissed at that, but even the commentators agreed that playing it smart and steering clear of any of Felix’s fire would be the smartest thing to do in this last round.

“Grecco doesn’t wanna play here,” one of the commentators was saying, “not with Sanchez coming alive in these last few rounds. And look, Sanchez didn’t even wanna sit down in between rounds this time. The guy’s ready to go. Grecco better be smart here, or he may find himself in a world of trouble fast.”

The bell rang, and Felix went right to Grecco. This time Grecco didn’t back away. The battle was on, and the crowd was going wild. Ella had seen this before—both fighters coming out on fire in the last round—but it’d never been this incredibly nerve-wracking. Felix landed one that had Grecco wobbling backwards, and Felix kept swinging, landing one after another.