“You need any help looking?” he asks as Claire hurries inside, gaze on her ass now.
“We are good,” I reply sharply, stepping to block his view of her.
When I enter the locker room, Claire’s on her hands and knees, peering under a bench.
She underplayed how much this meant to her, which I already knew.
“I’ll take the left side,” I say, starting to search each cubby systematically. I go slowly, making sure to look in every possible nook and cranny.
When we meet in the middle, Claire looks defeated.
“Thanks for trying,” she says, sincerity mixing with disappointment.
I do one final scan of the room, trying to think of any other spot the coin could be. There aren’t many options. Not only is it clear of equipment, but the floor is spotless. The artificial smell of cleaner hangs in the air, and there are vacuum lines on the carpet.
Claire pulls her phone out and checks the time. “It’s seven,” she tells me. “If we hurry, we should make it back to the hotel on time.”
“One second,” I say, returning to the hallway.
The security guard is leaning against a wall, whistling between bites of a glazed doughnut.
“Who cleans on this floor?”
The security guard scrambles to straighten, nearly dropping his doughnut. “Uh… I dunno. They have a closet on each floor and rotate between?—”
“Show me the closet.”
Claire’s caught up to me. “Otto, it’s fine.”
I ignore her, following the guard a few doors down the hall. He unlocks this door and opens it, revealing a large closet. Shelves are stacked with bottles of cleaner and other supplies, with a plastic cart parked between them. And set on a roll of paper towels, next to a mop handle, is a coin from the Detroit Zoo.
Relief rushes through me as I grab it, turning to hand it to Claire. “Here.”
Her mouth gapes as she stares at the silver coin in my palm.
“Now, we need to go,” I say, hustling toward the nearest exit.
37
CLAIRE
“What are you watch—oh. Reliving your greatest hits?” Cassidy plops on the couch beside me and pulls a pillow to her chest, staring at the television.
I tap a pen against the notepad in my lap, studying my ten-year-old self on-screen. “Searching for inspiration.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have to give a speech on Saturday at this fancy gala to announce a new scholarship focused on female athletes.”
Cassidy yawns. “What are you wearing?”
“I don’t know.”
“WillOttobe there?”
I doodle in the margins. Endless loops that lead nowhere. “Possibly.”
Probably. As far as I know, the Siege’s entire coaching staff will be attending the event.
