Page 82 of Broken Formation


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Cole comes down and goes straight for the coffee and sugar, his grin aimed at both of us.

"How was the game?" Maya asks.

"We won. Dante scored twice while mentally somewhere else."

"I was focused."

"You were automatic. There's a difference." Cole stirs his coffee. "Maya, your forechecking piece. The one on zone entry pressure metrics."

"What about it?"

"Dante put it on Addison's desk," Cole says.

Maya goes still. She turns to me.

"You put my piece on Addison's desk."

"The analysis was sound. The coaching staff needed to see it."

"You hand-delivered a student journalist's article to your head coach."

"I delivered accurate data to the person who could use it."

"That's advocacy, Voss."

"Call it what you want."

"I'm calling it what it is. The man who spent six years telling me I was atouristjust walked my work into his coach's office."

The kitchen goes quiet. Cole watches both of us from the counter with the same expression he wore Friday night, his coffee untouched in his hand.

"The piece was right," I say. "I should have said that sooner."

"How much sooner?"

"Years."

She holds my gaze. I hold hers. The counter is between us, the tea is in her hands, and the eggs are going cold. Her collarbone is bare above the sweatshirt collar, and the flush starts at the base of her throat.

"It's a start," she says.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Milan hits before the second buzz. I leave the phone where it is.

"Practice at nine," I say, putting my plate in the sink.

"Film at noon," Cole says.

"Filing deadline at two," Maya says. "I'll be at the Chronicle."

She slides off the counter, leaves the eggs, takes her tea, and goes upstairs. Her footsteps test the boards and map the creaks all the way up.

Cole watches her go, leaning against the counter with his coffee, his jaw tight above the rim. He waits until her door closes.

"We need to talk," he says.

Cole keeps both hands around the coffee mug.

"She told me everything Sunday," he says. "The calls. The letter. The name. I've known about Ashford since I was thirteen. The parole, I confirmed through Richard."