“And you were a traitor,”Roseshot back.Herthroat was tight, but her voice was steady.“Thatwasn’t teenage drama,Bree.Thatwas betrayal.”
The field went still.Gloveshung loose.Softballsrolled to a stop.Eventhe cicadas seemed to pause, like the whole world was listening.
“I didn’t come here to fight,”Brianasaid finally, her voice softer now, stripped of its practiced lilt.“Icame to sayI’msorry.”
Rose blinked, stunned.“Youwaited twenty years to apologize?”
Briana swallowed.“Ithought you hated me.”
“I did.”
“Do you still?”
Rose opened her mouth.Closedit again.Thetruth was slippery.Angerstill simmered under her ribs, but so did exhaustion, and grief, and maybe—just maybe—a strange sense of relief hearingBrianafinally say the words.
“I don’t know whatIfeel,”Roseadmitted.“ButIdon’t need you showing up here like we’re gonna braid each other’s hair and share a lemonade.Thisteam?Thesegirls?They’remy family now.Youdon’t get to drop back in and stir things up.”
Briana nodded, and for once, she didn’t smile.“Fairenough.Ijust wanted to say it.I’msorry.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned.Herfootsteps were slow, but steady, crunching over gravel and grass as she walked back toward the parking lot.Herposture was straight, like she wasn’t used to hearing no.
Rose didn’t move.Didn’tspeak.Shejust stood there, clipboard clutched too tight, heart thudding so hard she could feel it in her wrists.Thesun slid lower, bleeding red into the horizon, and her past slinked off into the shadows again.
Practice ended early.
No one could focus after that.Drillsturned sloppy, balls sailed wild, andRosehad snapped—almost without meaning to—atTashafor dropping an easy catch.Thegirl’s face had crumpled, andRosehad swallowed her temper down like vinegar.Shewaved them off after only an hour, muttering something about the heat.
The second the last cleat cleared the field,Rosesank onto the bleachers.Themetal was still warm from the sun, and she let her elbows rest on her knees, head dropping into her hands.Shefelt wrung out, scraped raw by ghosts she hadn’t asked to face.
“Need backup?”
The voice was familiar.
Riley dropped a cold soda beside her and lowered himself onto the bench with the ease of someone who’d been sitting beside her all their lives.Hecracked his own can open, the fizz loud in the humid air.
“Do you ever mind your business?”she muttered without looking up.
“Nope.Notwhen it comes to my sister.”Hetook a long swallow.“So.Briana?”
“She just showed up.”Roselifted her head, brushing a stray hair from her face.“Likewe’re gonna hug it out and pretend nothing happened.”
“She always had nerve,”Rileysaid dryly.
Rose snorted.“That’sone way to put it.”Hergaze drifted back to the field, the bases still gleaming faintly white in the dusk.“Shesaid she’s sorry.”
Riley was quiet for a long beat, the kind of silence only siblings could share without discomfort.Then: “Doyou believe her?”
“I don’t know.”Rosewrapped her hands around the soda can but didn’t open it.“Idon’t even know if it matters.”
“It might,”Rileysaid.Histone was even, but his eyes, sharp and steady, gave away more.“Especiallyif she’s not just back for the reasons she’s spreading around town.”
Rose frowned, turning toward him.“What’sthat supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer right away.Instead, he leaned back, stretched his legs out, and took another sip like he had all the time in the world.Buthis gaze wasn’t on her anymore.
It had drifted toward the parking lot.
Rose followed it.
