“Shoes comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Knee?”
“Fine.”
“Watch?”
“Working.”
“Emergency contact?”
“Tessa.”
“Emotionally offensive.”
“She remains legally practical.”
Dani stepped closer.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
The offer brought back the first mile, the six-mile run, and the hotel dream. I wanted her beside me. I also wanted to know whether I could do this without making her voice responsible for every step.
“What was the plan?” I asked.
“Run the first three miles with you, then let you settle independently. Meet again around mile ten if course access allows.”
“That is still the plan.”
“You can change it.”
I touched the watch, then made myself lower my hand. “I know.”
“I want you at the start.”
“I’m here.”
“And mile ten.”
“I’ll be there.”
“The middle belongs to me.”
Dani’s posture eased.
“Yes.”
The announcement called five minutes. She opened her arms. I stepped into them. Her embrace was firm and brief. Appropriate for a starting corral. Not long enough. When we separated, she touched her forehead to mine.
“Run your race, Amy.”
Not Evelyn’s. Not Dani’s. Mine. The crowd began moving. Dani stepped backward beyond the barrier.
“I’ll see you at ten.”
“You will.”
