What could he know?
Is it an open secret that my father was a terrible man who abused me? Was I the only one that he…?
I shake my head. I can’t think about that right now, so I go to my office and turn on the lights, determined to stay focused on work. Maybe others will think it’s weird that I’m determined, or if I’m shaky, they’ll think it’s because of the news and that will work. Either way, it’s a matter of time before police come knocking, no matter what we do.
Just as I pull out my chart, I notice the flowers. A cheap vase filled with daisies. At least two dozen, if not three. My brow furrows and I move closer. I don’t lock my door because the whole gym is locked when no one’s here, so who…?
Maybe it’s the coach trying to offer me a kindness. I touch one petal as my door opens. I turn around and see Ben. He flashes a warm smile and clears his throat. “I’m here for a checkup.”
“Good. Just let me get my things together,” I say.
He nods and looks around, then chuckles. “Someone wants your attention. I didn’t think daisies were romantic.”
I grab them and move them off to the side and out of the way. “Stupid flowers. Pointless and annoying. So messy.”
“No daises then. Heard loud and clear,” he chuckles.
I force a smile and shrug. “I just don’t want to think about things. These are definitely not romance.”
“Oh, about your missing—”
“I’d rather not talk about it or think about it,” I say quickly.
He nods as if that’s understandable and I turn, bumping the flowers. I notice a card I missed and glance at it before my eyes glue into place.
You won’t get away with this.
Someone knows. I rip the card in half and try to toss it in the trash. I’m not going to think about it. I can’t do anything about it. I’m not going to spiral. I won’t be suspicious.
How can someone know?
It has to be something else. Wrong person.
It can’t be about Dad. There were no witnesses.
“Hope?” Ben asks. “If you need—”
“I’m fine, really,” I lie. It must be obvious because his brow furrows. He reaches out to me, then curls his fingers into his palm. I clear my throat. “Let’s get started.”
I try to focus on the game tomorrow, I ask what he’d bet on if he were allowed to. He laughs about it depending on Jaxon’s blocking skills. He asks if I’m going. I talk about the expected crowd and the new field. We go back and forth, but when I have to take his blood pressure twice because I miss it the first time, I see worry in his eyes bloom.
“You know, we’re going to do great against the Panthers. They don’t play dirty, so you shouldn’t have much work. It was neck and neck last year, came down to a field goal, but I think the guys are going to make all the difference.”
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice high and tight.
“Hope, this isn’t helping. Clearly the big game tomorrow isn’t distracting even if it decides whether we’re knocked out of playoffs,” Ben murmurs.
“I’m sorry. I know it matters. I mean, it’s the ticket into playoffs and I know that it’s important. Everyone’s buzzing about it,” I say.
“And since it’snothelping and touching you isn’t an option, trust me on that… who should I get?” he asks.
I stare at him blankly.
What the hell is he talking about?
“Knox, Jaxon, or Dimitri?” he clarifies. “Which one works best for you?”
I laugh. It’s ridiculous.
