I glanced down at her, stifling a laugh at the look of pure shock on her face. It was worth keeping this secret for that look alone. Her mouth was open, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe what was happening.
“This is my friend, Quinn Carpenter. She’s a lifelong fan.”
Coach’s brows inched up, almost disappearing beneath his iconic Cardinals cap. “Is that so?”
Quinn blinked at him, her jaw snapping shut as she realized he was waiting for her reply. Her head bobbed. “Yes, I—my brother and I have been fans since we were little. We never missed a game.” She sounded breathless.
I looked at her sharply. She’d never spoken to me about her brother. I hadn’t even known she had a brother.
Coach gave an approving laugh. “Well, any friend of the Ramseys is a friend of mine.”
He reached up and plucked the cap off his head. He pulled a marker out of his pocket, and signed the bill before placing it on Quinn’s head, right over her beanie.
“Tell your brother that one’s for you. If he wants one himself, he can come with you next time.”
With that, he gave her a wink. Excusing himself, he sauntered down the hallway toward the locker rooms.
I turned to Quinn as she stared after him, tears brimming in her eyes.
Shewasquietonthe ride back to Ember Hollow.
The entire bus was a loud racket from the excitement and elation of the win. Dottie had prepared celebration cupcakes and passed them around to everyone, along with her whiskey flask. Even Edith had put her knitting aside to sing the OCU alma mater and reminisce about the best plays of the game with the college kids, who were thoroughly trashed at that point.
Quinn only spoke softly to Mara when she was asked a direct question. Other than that, she sat and stared at the cap Coach Williams had given her. Something the entire bus had been drooling over the moment they saw it.
She didn’t look at it as a prize, though.
She looked at it like it was a burden she hadn’t expected to carry.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask her, but I held my tongue. She wasn’t one to be pushed. So I didn’t try.
When we returned to Ember Hollow, we walked slowly back to my parents’ house. Quinn was still quiet, and so was I, paying extra attention to her—observing everything. When we were onthe front porch steps of the B&B, Quinn stopped and turned to me. She held the signed cap in her hands.
“How do you know Caleb Williams? How did you…” She looked down at the hat.
I shifted closer to her without even thinking about it.
“Hearthstone has worked with the team before on security. He also knew my dad back in the day. I still have security clearance there.” I shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.
We stood there in a heavy quiet. The icy wind tossed the leaves along the ground. It was almost dark. Night came so early now.
Quinn’s fingers brushed over the cardinal embroidered on the cap. Then, she pushed up the sleeve of her jacket, revealing the oversized leather watch she always wore. She stared at it, as if it would whisper words of comfort to her.
“My brother isn’t here anymore,” she muttered, all the emotion carefully plucked from her tone. “He won’t ever get to meet Coach Williams.” She looked up. “But thank you for doing all you did today. It was…the best day.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and something inside me pulled painfully tight. I forced myself to stay still, to keep my expression steady. Her brother was gone—and it was clear he’d meant a lot to her.
I swallowed back all the words of sympathy gathering on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her, though. From touching her. I placed my hand against her cheek.
“You’re allowed to have good days, Quinn,” I said softly.
Her eyes went round and glassy, like she was holding back tears. Her fingers gripped the Cardinals cap so hard it crumpled a little on the sides.
“I feel like I shouldn’t,” she whispered, the words hushed like a deeply concealed confession. “He should still be here…it’s all my fault.”
I stepped closer on instinct, until our bodies were almost flush. I pressed my thumb against her lips, silencing her. I didn’t know the details of what she was talking about, but I didn’t need them.
“This guilt isn’t something you need to bear,” I said, voice low but sharp. “Whatever happened, I know your brother wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”
