Chapter 1 - HE STILL THINKS THIS WAS ABOUT EMMA
Emma Carter came back into the arena looking like she had crawled through a drainage ditch.
Because she had.
Mud covered both knees of her black competition leggings.
Rainwater darkened her red-and-white team jersey.
One shoe squished every time she stepped.
Her hair was soaked against her face.
And the championship she had trained eleven months to reach was already holding its award ceremony without her.
Seventeen-year-old Lily Bennett stood on the center podium beneath white arena lights with the championship trophy pressed against her stomach.
She was smiling because cameras were pointed at her.
The smile disappeared the moment she saw Emma.
Mason Reed saw her a second later.
The forty-two-year-old event director came off the side of the competition floor so fast that one of the officials had to move aside.
“Where were you?”
Emma laughed from exhaustion.
“Outside.”
Mason looked at the competition bib still attached to the front of her jersey.
Number 417.
He grabbed it.
Emma slapped his wrist.
“Don't.”
He ripped the bib free anyway.
The safety pins snapped.
Then Mason tore the thick synthetic paper in half.
Again.
Pieces dropped onto the arena floor.
“You quit. Stay gone.”
He shoved Emma.
Hard.
She stumbled backward three steps.
Her wet shoe slid.
Emma hit the floor beside the crowd barrier.
A sound moved through the spectators.
Not cheering.
Shock.
Lily stepped off the podium.
Still holding the trophy.
Emma pushed herself up.
Mason moved in front of her.
She walked straight toward him anyway.
“No.”
Her voice shook from running, cold, anger—she wasn't sure which.
“He locked me out.”
Lily stopped.
“What?”
Mason grabbed Emma by the upper part of her jersey near the shoulder.
“Come with me.”
Emma twisted violently.
His grip slipped.
She shoved him with both hands.
Mason staggered backward into the metal crowd barrier.
People jumped away.
Three phones went up immediately.
“Emma.”
Lily moved closer.
“What do you mean locked out?”
Emma pointed toward the access tunnel behind the competition floor.
Tunnel C.
The concrete passage competitors used to reach the start gates.
“Back there.”
Lily looked.
Mason instantly stepped across their line of sight.
“Ceremony's continuing.”
Lily stared at him.
“What happened?”
“Carter missed her call.”
“I was there.”
“You weren't at the start.”
“Because you closed the door.”
Mason ignored her.
He reached toward Lily.
“Podium.”
Lily stepped around him.
Mason followed.
She still held the heavy silver-and-glass championship trophy.
He snatched it from her hands.
“Hey.”
Mason slammed it onto the podium.
The base struck hard enough to make the microphones shake.
“Enough.”
Lily didn't move.
Emma came to stand beside her.
For the first time all afternoon, the two finalists were actually next to each other.
Lily looked at Mason.
“What are you hiding?”
He froze.
The giant replay screen behind them went black.
Mason turned.
The championship logo disappeared.
Security footage replaced it.
Tunnel C.
Timestamp:
3:41:08 PM
Emma stood outside the locked competition door.
Dry then.
Still wearing her warm-up jacket.
Mason was visible on the other side.
He looked directly through the narrow glass.
Emma pounded once.
The footage showed Mason reach for the internal handle.
For half a second, Emma thought he was opening it.
Instead—
he pulled the inner door shut.
Turned the latch.
Walked away.
The arena erupted.
Mason rushed toward the control table.
“Kill that.”
A young technician backed away.
“I didn't put it up.”
Mason grabbed the tablet.
Hit STOP.
Nothing happened.
The footage continued.
Emma stared at the screen.
Lily's face had gone white.
Mason pressed another control.
Still nothing.
Then the tunnel door opened again.
Not fully.
Only three inches.
A woman's hand appeared from inside.
She placed Emma's intact competition bib onto the concrete floor.
Number 417.
The same bib Mason had just torn apart after Emma eventually found it and made her way back inside.
The woman's face never entered frame.
Her body remained hidden.
But the tunnel microphone caught her voice.
Calm.
Close to the camera.
“He still thinks this was about Emma.”
Emma slowly turned toward Lily.
May you like
Lily was already looking at her.
And for the first time since being handed the trophy, Lily looked frightened to be the winner.
