“You must’ve seen something up close,” Sheila added. She was fishing.
I felt Chris glance at me. We hadn’t said anything to anyone yesterday. There was no point in causing panic before the officials confirmed anything.
“Someone could’ve tampered with it,” I said evenly. “Or it could just be poor maintenance. It’s hard to tell until someone checks every bolt.”
Donnie seemed to consider that and nodded. “I’ve been through a couple of shows where equipment just wasn’t secured properly. Volunteers miss things.”
“But then why call a full briefing?” Sheila countered, skeptical.
Before I could reply, Chris nudged me lightly with his elbow. I followed the direction of his gaze. Marion was weaving through the crowd toward us.
Donnie gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment but immediately turned back to Sheila, their conversation resuming in low, urgent tones. Sheila didn’t bother hiding the look she gave Marion as he approached.
“Well,” Marion said lightly when he reached our table, offering Chris a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “what do you think this is all about?”
Chris slipped into the same neutral expression I’d been wearing. “You’ve got me.”
“Must be important if they’ve called everyone down.” Marion’s gaze flicked between us. “I just hope they don’t cancel the rest of it. It would be a shame after all this.”
A sharp tap on a microphone echoed from the front of the room. Heads turned instinctively toward the stage. The event chair, a middle-aged woman in a navy blazer with the organization’s crest, stepped up to the podium, flanked by two officials and a uniformed hotel security officer.
The room quieted.
“Good morning, everyone,” she began. “Thank you for attending on such short notice. Several incidents occurred during yesterday’s trials involving compromised equipment. After a thorough inspection, we’ve confirmed deliberate tampering. A suspect was apprehended late last night.”
A low murmur spread through the ballroom.
“All remaining equipment has been dismantled, inspected, and re-certified. The semi-finals will resume tomorrow at 8:00 AM. If you prefer to withdraw for your dog’s safety, you may do so without penalty. Please notify the steward’s desk by 6:00 PM.”
“All updates will also be sent via email and posted on the event portal. Event staff and safety officers will remain available after this briefing.”
The microphone clicked off. Conversation erupted immediately. Sheila and Donnie were already moving toward another group of handlers. Marion stayed where he was.
“Well,” he said, exhaling dramatically. “Thank goodness that’s sorted.”
My wolf didn’t like the way he said it.
“Guess we’re back on track,” he added, flashing Chris a grin. “Hope you two aren’t planning to back out. It wouldn’t feel right making it through semis without facing one of the best teams here.”
Total nonsense. We had barely scraped through qualifiers. Clean run, yes, but not dominant.
Marion stepped closer, clapping Chris lightly on the shoulder before leaving our table.
Chris’s posture changed instantly, his jaw tightening. For half a second, gold flickered at the edges of his irises.
I moved without thinking, placing my hand over Chris’s forearm.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
His gaze snapped to mine. The gold faded, replaced by a clear, rich brown.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath. “That guy is just…”
“I know.”
For a short while, we just looked around. The ballroom was still buzzing with motion. People shifted in small groups, somemaking their way toward the registration table at the front, others already slipping out through the side doors.
“So,” Chris said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What do you want to do?”
