This is unfair and accurate, which is Dana's specialty.
I breathe once. It is not enough.
"He works for the team," I say.
"Oh."
"Front office."
"Oh, Nolan."
"He recused himself. Before anything else happened. He told the GM. Gave up the evaluation. The trade stuff. Contract. All of it."
"That sounds good."
"It is."
"And scary."
"Yes."
"Because someone knows."
I open my eyes.
There it is. The old architecture. The part underneath everything. Not just Caleb. Not just the hip. Not just the last season. The fact that my silence has been a room I built so carefully that even a single person knowing where the door is feels like structural damage.
"The GM knows enough," I say.
"And I know now."
"Yes."
"Anybody else?"
"Maybe Cole."
"Maybe?"
"He knows things. Quietly."
"I like him already."
"You've met him."
"I liked him then too."
I lean my hip against the counter and regret it immediately. The joint sends pain up the side. I shift away.
Dana hears the breath change. "Hip?"
"Fine."
"Try again."
"Bad."
"How bad?"
