That part I know. “That I needed to work hard on my beam connections in the next few weeks. I haven’t really hit them solidly all season, and that’s important if I want to medal.”
The agents nod and make some notes. I turn to Pauline, who smiles at me tightly and sends me an approving nod.
“Okay, I think that’s it,” Agent Kingston says, nodding to me.
I take that as my cue to leave.
“Emma Sadowsky is next. Would you mind sending her back here, Audrey?” Agent Farley says.
“Sure.”
The tension in my shoulders releases the moment I step through the door. The other coaches are nearby, and the gymnasts are all gathered where I left Chelsea and Emma, lying on the mats.
“Em,” I say, approaching the group and nodding behind me. “You’re up.”
“Was it bad?” she whispers when I reach her. I hold out a hand to help her up from the mat.
“Nope, not at all. Easy.”
I plop down in the spot she vacated. “So, training’s done?”
“Yeah,” Chelsea says, barely looking up from her phone but handing mine to me.
“Thanks.”
I have a bunch of notifications, and I quickly type out a message to the group chat with my mom and dad that I’m fine and I’ll call them later. I skip everything else until I get to Leo.
Your coach got arrested?
Are you okay?
Read this right now!
Attached to that last message is a link, and after reassuring him that I’m okay, I open it with a swipe of my finger.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sierra screeches just as the article loads on my phone and … whoa.
BREAKING: Embattled US Gymnastics Coach Accused of Sexual Assault by Suspended Athlete
Scanning the article, it builds on the previous story, everything unfolding in a sickening timeline.As reported earlier today, Gibson is accused of falsifying Daniela Olivero’s drug test results … Olivero suspended under suspicious circumstances the day after Olympic trials … FBI alerted after she submitted to a follow-up test … a desperate attempt at a cover-up for his alleged yearlong sexual abuse …
“Ladies!”
I force my eyes away from the utter insanity unfolding on my phone’s screen.
“Line up!” an NGC official yells over the growing buzz in the gym. I think her name is Liz, but I can’t be sure. I remember her from trials, though, ushering us back and forth between the locker room and the competition area and back for interviews.
Out of sheer muscle memory, we all stand and come to attention, the same way we always have in this gym whenever anyone calls out those words. My hand clutches at my phone, now hidden behind my back. I want to read that article again, even as my stomach churns at the thought of it.
“We’re going to cancel training for the rest of the day,” Maybe-Liz says. “We will have dinner brought to your rooms instead of gathering in the cafeteria as usual. I want everyone to get a full night’s sleep. Despite our … circumstances, we still have an Olympic Games to prepare for, and that means tomorrow, we’ll be starting our internal verifications. I expect everyone to use tonight to clear their minds of these distractions and come prepared, the way Coach Gibson would expect were he here. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we respond in unison, and there’s a weird sense of comfort in this familiar answer. It shouldn’t be comfortable now, though, should it? It’s should actually be terrifying.
We’re ushered back to the dorms, and it’s only a few minutes before Emma slips into my room. Our doors are all open, and the hallway is small enough for everyone to hear when she stops and says, “They’re canceling the rest of the FBI interviews for today.”
“Did you see the article?” I ask, and she nods quickly, sitting at the end of my bed while I tuck myself into the corner against the wall.
Only seconds later, Chelsea and finally Sierra and Jaime wander in. Five of us jammed into a room barely big enough for the two twin beds. Sierra and Jaime have pushed my luggage to the floor, and they take up the other bed while Chelsea paces near the door. The tension is pressing in, the silence suffocating.
