Not with Coach.
Not with anyone.
We stop by the locker room entrance.Finn leans against the wall.
“You talked to her this morning, right?”he asks carefully.
My jaw tightens.“Yeah.”
“And...?”
“She said she’s fine.”
Finn huffs a breath.“Which means she’s not.”
I look at him sharply.“Back off.”
He lifts both hands.“Hey.I’m not judging.I’m worried too.”
Worried.
About her.
The word hits harder than it should.
Finn scratches the back of his neck.“Just...let me know if you figure out what’s wrong.”
I nod once.
He leaves.
I don’t go into the locker room.
I don’t go to the gym.
I don’t go anywhere.
I stand in the hallway with my hands shoved deep in my pockets, staring at my boots, chest tight, head buzzing.
Coach was right.
My head’s not in the game.
Because it’s somewhere else.
Wrapped around someone else.
Around the memory of a woman who looked at me yesterday like she was bracing for impact.
And for the first time in a long time—
I have no idea how to fix something.
But I know this:
Whatever’s happening to Wren Harper?
It’s getting worse.
