It was still just a dream.
“Can we appeal?”
“Lily.”Felix’s voice held defeat.“The measurement is objective.There’s no gray area here.There’s nothing to appeal.”
“So, Henri gets the win then?”The trophy always went to whoever was P2.“I guess Silverstone will always just be a dream.”
Felix didn’t say anything else as he stared at me, heartbreak all over his face.I’d barely seen any emotion from my team principal, but now, when I finally did, it was the exact emotion I’d never wanted to see.
“I need…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.I needed to get out; needed to be anywhere but here, watching the team’s joy curdle into devastation.“I’m leaving.”
“Lily—”
I was already moving, stripping off my gloves, unzipping the race suit.Someone—I didn’t even know who—handed me my street clothes, and I changed in the back of the motorhome, muscle memory taking over when my brain couldn’t process anything beyond the crushing weight of loss.
Security ushered me quickly to my car, and I kept my head down and walked faster, ignoring the cameras, ignoring the journalists calling my name, ignoring everything except the need to be alone.
As soon as I got into the hotel, I dropped my bag on the floor.
I made it three steps before I saw it.A white envelope on the bed, attached to some chocolates, identical to all the others.
My hands shook as I picked it up, already knowing what I’d find inside but unable to stop myself from looking.The same block letters that haunted me each time I saw a small piece of cardstock.
YOU REALLY FUCKED UP THIS TIME, LILY.SO MUCH FOR BEING A SURE BET, EH?DON’T LET ME FIND YOU AT THE NEXT GRAND PRIX.
I crumpled the note in my fist and sank onto the bed.The hotel room was silent except for my ragged breathing.
Someone had been in this room.
Someone who knew I’d be here, in this hotel, in this specific room.I dropped the note like it burned and pulled out my phone.I couldn’t wait until summer break to tell someone.That plan was crazy.My fingers hovered over Henri’s name in my contacts.Then over Mark’s.Then over the number for hotel security.
Instead I called no one.I sat there alone, letting the silence eat me alive.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Henri
The rain hadn’t stopped since we arrived in Belgium two days ago.It drummed against my hotel window in an endless, maddening rhythm that matched the anxiety churning in my chest.I’d been standing aimlessly for twenty minutes, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Felix’s contact information.
This is insane.I shouldn’t be doing this.
But the image of Lily’s text to me last week, the one with a photo of the threat she’d received in Silverstone, had left me feeling sick.Silverstone was devastating for her.She’d gone from winning twenty-five points and her dream race, to nothing.And then to get this?
I was nothing short of worried.
She’d barely spoken to anyone all week.Lily had refused to let me into her hotel room afterward and had basically ignored all my calls and Georgia’s ever since.In the drivers’ briefing yesterday, she’d sat alone, hood pulled up, avoiding eye contact.
But I knew that look in her eyes.I’d worn it myself, that desperate attempt to hold everything together while falling apart inside.Silverstone had stolen more than points from her.It had stolen that spark, that fire that made her Lily.And now, with these threats piling up on top of everything else, I was terrified of what might be left when the dust settled.
How much could one person take before they shattered completely?
My thumb pressed the call button before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hello?”Felix’s confident voice came through.“Who’s speaking?”
“Felix, this is Henri.I need to talk to you.In person.Are you at your hotel?”
A pause.“Yes, but—”
