“It was open.”
She crossed the room and took the bib. Too quickly. Not angrily. Instinctively. I released it.
“What does come back mean?” I asked.
Dani folded the bib along the old crease.
“Something I wrote after the first race.”
“You planned to return.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still?”
She looked at the drawer.
“I don’t know.”
Honest without surrendering her privacy.
“You are running eight miles.”
“Under Rose’s plan.”
“Yes. You think the plan is secretly preparation.”
“I think you might use it that way without deciding.”
Her jaw tightened.
“That’s not fair.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you about the mileage.”
“After it increased.”
“I told Rose.”
“Some.”
“I told her everything yesterday.”
That changed the information.
“What did she say?”
“That I can keep running under the ceiling. No race plan. No entry. Reassess in four weeks.”
“And the mile-twenty-two note?”
Dani placed the bib back in the drawer.
“It’s old.”
“It still matters.”
