Each comment chips away at something inside me.
Because I can see it from their side.
I can.
I played under a false name. I took a place that technicallywasn’t mine to take. I stepped onto the ice knowing I wasn’t supposed to be there.
Fraud.
The word presses in, unwanted but persistent.
But between the angry comments, there’s a slightly different tone. Mostly coming from women.
Wait… she was actually good though?
She was better than loads of the guys!
She set up half their plays this weekend.
Good for her!
I look at those longer.
Because that’s the truth too.
Iwasgood. Ididearn my place.
But I know it doesn’t excuse how I went about everything.
I hand the phone back to Tara and sink down onto the edge of the bed, pressing my hands against my face before dragging them down slowly.
“I feel… icky,” I admit finally. “Like I’ve done something wrong, even though I know why I did it.”
The word sounds childish.
But it’s the closest thing I have.
Tara’s expression softens.
“Because you’re being framed as something you’re not,” she says. “A cheat.”
I let out a shaky breath.
“That’s exactly what I am to them.”
“No,” she says firmly. “That’s what they’ve decided is easiest to understand.”
Her phone buzzes again.
The story is still spreading. Still growing.
“What happens now?” I ask quietly.
Tara reads through the latest announcements.
“They’ve announced an emergency investigation,” she tells me. All games involving ‘Lee Shaw’ are under review.”
“And the final?” I ask.
