He kept going. One day at a time. One breath at a time.
Because stopping would mean facing the truth: he wasn’t fine. He was just surviving.
And survival, for now, was all he had left.
???
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Mia
The phone rang on a Tuesday just after nine. Dana’s name again.
Mia answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Dan.”
A relieved exhale on the other end, followed by Dana’s familiar gravelly laugh. “Fuck me, you’re still picking up. I was half-expecting voicemail jail by now.”
Mia smiled faintly, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she stirred honey into her tea. “I figured twice in a couple ofmonths is probably safe. Any more and you’d start charging me for emotional support.”
“Damn right,” Dana shot back. “I’d send you an invoice for every ‘you okay?’ text I’ve sent. You’d owe me a new car by now.”
Mia laughed—small, but real. “How are you? Still terrorising the physio bay?”
“Same shit, different day,” Dana said, voice dropping into its usual blunt warmth. “Still patching up drivers who think they’re invincible. One of the new guys—cocky little shit—thought he might do me a favour and took me out last week. Proper date, dinner, the works. I think he was expecting a sure thing, like one drink and he’d get his leg over. Poor bastard didn’t realise I’m basically a nun these days. Told him straight: ‘Mate, I’ve seen better moves in a simulator. Hard pass.’ He looked like I’d kicked his puppy.”
Mia snorted into her tea. “You’re brutal.”
“Someone’s gotta be,” Dana said, unapologetic. “I’m not wasting my limited free time on mediocre dick. I’ve got standards and a vibrator that doesn’t talk back. Anyway—enough about my tragic love life. How are you? Really?”
Mia leaned against the windowsill, watching her mother hang washing on the line outside. “Better. Not great, but… better. I told Mum and Dad everything. All of it. Oxford. The assault. The lies. Vegas. Lucas.”
Dana was quiet for a beat—rare for her. When she spoke, her voice was softer, rough edges sanded down. “Jesus, Mia. That’s… fuck. That’s a lot. And they took it okay?”
“They cried. I cried. They didn’t look at me differently. They just… held me.”
“Fuck,” Dana repeated, quieter. “That’s huge. That’s massive. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Mia swallowed hard. “It feels like I’ve been carrying it alone for so long. Saying it out loud… it didn’t fix anything, but it made the weight lighter. Like I can finally breathe.”
“I can hear it in your voice,” Dana said. “You sound… steadier. Not fixed, but steadier.”
Then Mia took a breath. “I’ve been talking to Ascari,” she said.
A sharp inhale from Dana. “And?”
“They’re serious. Video calls with the team principal, the HR director, even a quick chat with Eddie Hale himself. He’s… intense. But kind. Asked about my philosophy on comms—how I balance driver voice with team messaging. Said he’s tired of noise and wants someone who can keep things clean, steady. Someone who understands pressure without cracking under it.”
Dana let out a soft whistle. “Good old Eddie. Legend.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “What if I fuck it up? What if the headlines follow me?”
“Then we fight them,” Dana said simply. “You’re Mia fucking Brookes. Sharp, kind, tougher than most of the drivers out there. If anyone can handle Eddie and a headline or two, it’s you. And if it gets messy? You’ve got me. You’ve got your parents. You’ve got people who know the real story.”
“I’m going to accept,” she said. “I told them yesterday. Official offer came through this morning. Comms lead. Full control of the department. Reporting directly to the principal. It’s… it’s the kind of role I used to dream about. Before everything got complicated.”
Dana let out a bright, relieved laugh. “Mia. That’s massive. They’re lucky to have you. We all are.”
