Page 102 of Hard Pass

She angles her head to the side like she does when she’s deep in thought. She scrunches her nose for a beat, almost like she’s compromising herself with whatever she’s about to say next. “Yes.” It’s almost a sigh. “I need to memorialize my findings in a professional document rather than all my handwritten notes here. We have a report that I need to do for internal documentation. Company protocol requires that we get it approved before any public announcement. I’ll submit it to Marcus and try to get a press release drafted and issued to the media in the next couple of days.”

Quicker would be better, but I’m not going to rush the woman now advocating for me.

“Thank you.” I breathe in a deep breath. “And then after that? Do you focus on the betting data?”

“That’ll be the plan. I’ll cross-reference everything again and try to narrow the timing, look for overlaps.” She shrugs. “Patterns don’t lie. People do. And people also make mistakes. My team and I just need to find the one this person made.”

Yeah, I know all too well how people make mistakes.

“What if whoever is doing it doesn’t make a mistake though? What if betting is so high tech now that they’ll hide behind VPNs and offshore platforms?”

She raises her eyebrows, and I realize I look way too knowledgeable on a subject I’m claiming innocence about.

“I’ve been researching.” I shrug. “Trying to educate myself and know what I’m up against.”

She purses her lips and nods. “Understandable.”

“What if that’s the case though?”

“There’s always a crack somewhere. At least in my experience there has been, but I’m not going to lie to you, not finding an answer is a possibility.”

Fucking great. I sigh and run a hand through my hair.

“Awesome. And me?” I ask. “Am I supposed to do anything different?”

“You play,” she says. “Just like you did yesterday. Just like you have every other day of your life.”

I huff out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, because that’s been working out great for me lately.”

Her gaze softens. “Yesterday it did.”

She’s right. About all of it. My innocence. About the field of candidates who might have done this to me. About how I need to settle into the turmoil and ride it out.

But at least I’ll soon have something I can use to prove my innocence.

To the league.

To the media.

To him.

It’s never good enough.

His voice hits like it always does. Sharp. Immediate. Automatic. Except for this time . . . it doesn’t sting the same way.

It’s almost as if Dublin’s belief in me, her certainty, has dulled his disapproval.

This isn’t you throwing games.

I let me shoulders drop on my exhale. “I’ll help.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“And you never took me up on the offer. I’ll help, Dublin. Whatever you need,” I say. “You want access, I’ll get it for you. You have the schedules and shifts, but I can review them with you and find an overlap that you might have missed.”

“I know. I appreciate it. I have to be cautious of confidentiality.”

“Well, I’m not going to sit back while someone uses me like this. Someone who obviously doesn’t care about the ramifications for me since they’re still out there betting.”