She squeezed his fingers. “I’ll remind you. Awareness, not paranoia.”
“Exactly,” he said.
A staffer from the Cup organization appeared with a camera and a harried expression. “Hank James? Can I steal you for a second? We’re grabbing a few shots for the recap reel.”
“Sure,” he said. He kissed Bree’s temple. “Back in a minute.”
He posed for a handful of photos; the practiced half-smile came easy now. He signed a program for a kid whose hands shook with excitement. His real calculations remained tucked away, as he answered some innocuous questions.
When he made it back to the edge of the tent, Bree and Carmen were gone.
His chest tightened until he spotted them near the paddock exit, stepping into the cooler dark beyond the lights. Carmen caught his eye and lifted a hand; the invitation was clear.
He followed.
The night outside smelled like damp asphalt and salt. The rumble of voices faded as soon as the tent flap fell back into place behind him. Overhead, the sky was a deep navy bruise, streaked with faint clouds.
Carmen stood near the temporary fence, arms folded, Dragon jacket zipped to her throat. Bree leaned against a concrete barrier, her expression curious and open.
“Sorry to drag you away from your adoring public,” Carmen said. “I just… wanted to talk without an audience.”
“Sounds serious,” Hank said.
“It is,” she said.
Bree tilted her head. “What’s going on?”
Carmen drew in a breath. “I quit,” she said. “The Dragons. I told Heidi I’m done after this weekend.”
Bree’s brows climbed. “Wow. That’s… big.”
“Yeah.” Carmen gave a short, humorless laugh. “I'm only along to help Heidi, but as the evidence stacks up against the Red Dragons, I want no part of any of that. I love my sister, but if they're cheating, and it looks as though they are, I don't need that reflecting on me.”
Hank nodded slowly. "Are you sure they're cheating?"
“I heard talk in the trailer afterward about ‘finding a source that is a little more discreet next time’.” Her jaw tightened. “Because when I told them if they ever pulled that kind of stunt again I’d turn them in myself, one of the guys laughed and told me I’d never do it. Like I’m some kind of decoration they can ignore.”
Anger sparked low in Hank’s gut. “You told Diaz any of that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I went by the station after the driver’s meeting this afternoon. Gave her my notes, names, dates, everything I had. She asked if I’d be willing to testify if it comes to that; I told her yes.”
“That’s brave,” Bree said, her voice soft.
Carmen shrugged one shoulder. “Feels more like overdue,” she said. “I don't really care much for the personality of the team. It's exciting to be part of the race and all the prep that goes into it. I got caught up in that. I let the excitement for racing take over, and I've questioned myself over and over on my attention to detail. Maybe I would have seen something myself if I'd paid attention. But it never occurred to me that they'd cheat. I thought they were just obnoxious and cocky.”
Silence sat for a beat, heavy with things all three of them knew in different ways.
“Marcus will land on his feet,” Carmen went on. “He’s good at spinning. He’ll pitch it like they cut me loose for not being a team player; I don’t really care. I’ve got enough contacts to pick up freelance PR work somewhere else.”
“Where are you thinking?” Hank asked.
She hesitated, then looked at Bree. “I’ve been talking to the Cup operations folks,” she said. “Off the record. They need someone to coordinate community engagement stuff in the smaller markets. Charity events, school visits, all the things that keep locals from hating the noise and the traffic. Copper Moon’s on that list.”
Bree’s eyes widened. “You’d be based here?”
“Probably in a weird hybrid way,” Carmen said. “Some travel, some home base. I haven’t said yes yet; I wanted to be sure I was really not going back to the Dragons before I jumped. But after this weekend…” She shook her head. “I can’t be the person smiling in the background while they cheat. And it could only be a matter of time before they actually hurt someone.”
“You’re not,” Hank said quietly. “You stopped being that the second you walked into Diaz’s office.”
