Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“What happened after?”
“They fined me out of my ass. Overnight, my reputation crumbled into ruins among officials. Team USA dropped me from the qualifiers. The only reason it didn’t escalate was because of Andras. Everyone reveres him.”
“He’s never won a medal.” I ran a hand down my jaw, remembering the dossier I’d read on him. “Never had a fencer who’s won an Olympic gold.”
“He’s rough around the edges. Has the personality of a traffic jam. Only I’ve ever managed to stick with him. It doesn’t matter though. There’s an urban legend around the community that all you need is one session with him to medal. It’s true. The last four women’s medalists trained with Andras. They just didn’t take him as a coach, because he’s a raging asshole.”
“And Vera? She just went along with sweeping everything under the rug?”
“Vera agreed not to run to the media if I stayed in my lane and did all her dirty work.”
The rest of the puzzle clicked into place.
Why Farrow became Cinderella 2.0.
Why she still practiced fencing with hopes of competing in the Olympics.
And why she’d spent the morning in tears with her chance officially gone.
“I’ll never be able to do this professionally.” Fae shook her head, hopping to her feet and ambling toward the window. “That dream is gone. Dead. Just like my father.”
“Why did Vera leak it?”
Fae hugged herself as she looked out at the rose bushes. “Vera found out I have a private investigator and a herd of lawyers sniffing around. She found Tom going through her trash in the middle of the night.”
Motherfucker.
“How do you know?”
“She texted me.”
Guilt rocketed through me.
I’d brought Tom into her life. I killed her fencing dream.
Farrow’s shoulders caved as she hugged herself tighter. “I’m not even sure Andras will still work with me. I was his shot at an Olympic gold.”
“Has he reached out to you yet?”
I picked up her phone, scrolling through the nasty articles. This story had legs, picking up speed as we spoke. Blasted on every news outlet. Trending on all social media platforms.
No shot in hell Andras hadn’t seen this. Unless he’d taken a lengthy vacation on Mars.
Octi shook her head, turning to face me. Full-blown tears coated her cheeks now.
Sheer fury simmered at my heels, heating me from head to toe. “Farrow, stop crying,” I bit out.
The command smeared the walls like sticky tar.
I wasn’t used to this. To… feeling.
And with Farrow, I felt.
All the damn time.
How terribly inconvenient. I loathed it.
To my horror, Fae’s sobs grew louder.
Her wails clawed at my chest, ripping the flesh to shreds.
“You don’t understand.” She fell to her knees, tilting her head down so I couldn’t see her face. “My entire life, I didn’t have much to my name. Not a family. Not a home. I had one thing—a dream. A destination. An Olympic piste.”
Her body vibrated with her sobs. “I pledged my whole being to that moment. I dreamed about it every night. Wished for it every morning. Read all the books, studied all the techniques…” She wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face into them. “Without this goal, I don’t know who I am anymore.”
I strode to her, sinking to the rug as well, holding her shoulders. It didn’t even register that I touched her with ease now. That I let her lay on my lap—not to help me, but to help her.
And I wanted to touch her again. Often.
“Listen to me, Farrow.” I nudged her chin up with my fingertip. “Fencing is only one of many layers in you. You’re not reduced to a single dream. You’re a fighter. A businesswoman. A daughter. A moralist.”
Her eyes clung to me, shiny with tears like two polished sapphires.
I rolled my eyes. “A somewhat decent Go player.”
She snorted, a tiny grin playing with her lips now.
“Fencing never defined you, Octi.” I brushed away her tears with my thumb. “It gave you a home when you needed one.”
But you don’t anymore.
You have mine.
Jesus. Where had that come from?
I drowned that thought as fast as it came, gripping Farrow’s shoulders. “You’re not a helpless child anymore. You’re capable. Competent. Infuriatingly smart. Soon, you’ll destroy Vera. And she knows it. Ratting you out to the press? It’s a show of weakness. She blinked first, Octi.”
Farrow fell to her back, grabbing her stomach. I frowned, wondering what about my words she found funny.
Something strange happened. A wisp of air from the vent tickled my ear, sending a chill down my neck.
It felt… cold?
I hadn’t felt cold in years.
I hadn’t felt much of anything in years. This—tasting the cold while Farrow raced through every emotion under the sun—felt like the highlight of my existence.
Farrow began hiccuping, managing to stop for a second to say, “Who would have thought you would be the one to deliver a pep talk?” She clutched her sweatshirt, her shoulders shaking. “Seriously, I’ve been waiting for Ari to wake up for hours.”