"He said it's a risk. That's not the same as a guarantee."
"Nico—"
"I heard him, Élise. I was there. I know what he said." My voice is rising now, frustration bleeding through. "But I also heard him say he'd clear me. Which means it's my choice."
"Then make the right one."
"The right one for who?" I snap. "For you? For the doctor? Or for me?"
Her jaw trembles. She looks away, staring at the windshield like she's trying to hold herself together by force.
"For you in ten years," she whispers. "Forusin ten years."
She unbuckles her seatbelt, opens the door, and gets out.
I watch her walk toward the building. Her shoulders are hunched, her steps uneven, like every movement costs her something.
She's shaking.
And I don't follow her.
Not yet.
I sit there, hands clenched on my thighs, staring at the mountains looming above us.
***
ÉLISE
I don't go to bed.
I sit at the table with my laptop open, the screen glowing in the dark flat. Nico is on the couch, leg propped up, scrolling through his phone. We haven't spoken since the parking lot.
The silence is worse than fighting.
My email inbox is open. The message from Vektor is still there, sent two hours ago.
Subject:Welcome to the Team–Start Date Confirmed
They want me in Salzburg from Monday. Salary details attached. First race assignment: Lenzerheide Finals.
I should feel relief. I do feel relief. This time on Monday, I’ll be on the highway from Salzburg, returning from home, no longer a dead weight.
But I haven't told him.
I close the laptop and look over at Nico. He's staring at his phone, jaw tight, scrolling through something I can't see but can guess. Race schedules. Training plans. Justifications.
"Nico."
He doesn't look up. "Yeah?"
"Don't race."
Now he looks up. His face hardens immediately. "We're not doing this again."
"I'm serious. Don't do it."
"Élise—"
