For a moment, the hum of the fluorescent light grew louder than her voice. My chest felt hollowed out, like someone had scooped something essential from the center of me and forgotten to put it back.
I nodded again. Because I am very good at nodding.
“I see,” I said.
Which was a lie. I did not see. What I did see was my van and my part-time hours. Sadly, I saw my father wandering into the wrong hallway at two in the morning.
“Is this urgent?” I asked because I needed time. Even if time wasn’t a real solution.
“We recommend transitioning within the next month or so,” she said gently. “His safety is our primary concern.”
“Of course,” I said. My voice sounded far away. Of course, I was concerned about his safety too, but I only had so much money and so much time to make more.
“We’ll send you the updated estimate and paperwork,” she added. “Let us know if you’d like to discuss payment options.”
I stood carefully, like sudden movement might crack something.
“Thank you,” I said, because I’m also very good at thanking people for things that feel like avalanches.
I made it all the way to the parking lot before my hands started shaking.
I leaned against the side of my van and pressed my forehead to the cool metal.
“Okay,” I whispered to no one. I’d handled worse. I could handle this. I just had to figure out how.
And I would. There were no other options.
But I was about to put all that behind me. I was on my way to the one place none of this mattered, the one place I could let it all go and take out my aggression in a healthy way.
The second I stepped into the Grimm Reapers’ rink, the world recalibrated again. The track gleamed under fluorescent lights. Wheels clacked against the wooden floor. Someone had cranked the music loud enough to count as emotional regulation.
“BLYTHE!” Mel shouted from across the floor. “If you’re late again, I’m replacing you with a folding chair.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I shot back. “I have a better hip check.”
Robin rolled past me backward, effortless and smug. “You look like someone who’s about to pretend she’s fine.”
“Iamfine,” I said brightly.
Robin narrowed her eyes. Derby girls could smell emotional instability the way sharks smelled blood.
I dropped my bag on the bench and started lacing my skates. The ritual helped. Pull tight. Cross. Loop. Ground yourself.
On the track, nothing else mattered. Not bills. Not fluorescent offices. Not numbers that doubled when you blinked. Just momentum.
Mel blew the whistle, and we started drills. I blocked Zella into the padded wall hard enough that she whooped in appreciation. Eleanor clipped my shoulder and nearly spun me out.
“Stay low, Belle!” Mel barked.
“I am low!” I barked back. “This is as low as God made me!”
Laughter rippled.
We ran endurance laps. My lungs burned. My thighs screamed. My brain went blissfully blank. This was the only place I didn’t feel like I was juggling glass. Halfway through scrimmage, I planted hard and absorbed a hit that rattled my ribs.
“That’s it,” Sonia yelled. “That’s the wall!”
Wall. I was very good at being a wall.
