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.”
“Yeah, well.” Carmen looked away, blinking fast. “Doesn’t erase the years I stayed because it was convenient.”
“That’s not all you did,” Bree said. “You supported the riders who weren’t assholes. You kept Heidi out of the worst of it. You watched for things that didn't feel right, and you spoke up. That counts.”
Carmen gave a small, crooked smile. “You’re too generous,” she said.
“Maybe,” Bree said. “Or maybe I know what it feels like to stay somewhere because the alternative is a big, terrifying unknown.”
Carmen closed her eyes briefly. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess you do.”
“This is a clean break,” Hank said. “That matters.”
“It also means some people who already don’t like you are going to like you even less,” Bree said gently. “Are you safe?”
Carmen’s mouth twisted. “I’m not stupid,” she said. “I’ll be careful. Diaz made me promise I’d call if anyone from the Dragons started getting too friendly outside official events. Most of them will just be pissed in a loud, macho way for a while and then move on to the next thing. The ones who worry me are the guys who were benefiting from the shady deals you exposed.”
“Einstein’s supplier,” Hank said.
“And his friends,” Carmen said. “I heard one of them on the phone this afternoon, hissing about ‘making examples’.”
Cold went down his spine. “You heard a name?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just a voice. Brooklyn accent, smoker’s rasp. Diaz said that matches some of what she’s hearing from the state. I’m not useful beyond that.”
“You’re more useful than half the people who think they are,” Hank said.
Carmen huffed out a breath. “Point is, I’m out. I wanted you to hear it from me, not through paddock gossip. You put your neck on the line to call out the nitrous; I’m putting mine on the line to back that call.”
“Thank you,” he said simply.
She nodded, then turned to Bree. “And I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”
Bree blinked. “For what?”
