Rose put her glasses back on. “Good. No application until Amy has met Miguel, signed the transfer, and received written confirmation that you no longer control the plan.”
“We agreed.”
“Accurate information. Clean transfer. No informal exceptions. No jokes when you are afraid.”
“That last requirement feels personal.”
“It is. I will formalize injury-risk review if Blake and Amy consent. That is harm reduction, not approval.”
“I accept the distinction.”
Rose opened the door. “Tell her Thursday.”
“I will.”
“And Dani?”
I stopped at the door.
“Why Amy?”
The safe answer was that she was reliable. The true answer was that I wanted more time with her.
“Because she is the best fit,” I said.
Rose took off her glasses, which meant she had heard both answers.
Amy arrived Tuesday with a revised copy of the competition rules. She had annotated them. Of course she had. We completed my final session as her assigned coach first. Miguel joined for the cool-down, reviewed the current plan, and scheduled a separate intake before leaving us with the paperwork. Two minutes running, one minute walking, repeated eight times. Amy maintained the correct pace without racing anyone, though Carol passed us twice and winked at me. After the final interval, Amy drank water and checked her heart rate.
“Recovery is improving,” she said.
“It is.”
“My average pace was slower.”
“That’s why recovery improved.”
“So the slower pace was intentional.”
“I have been saying that.”
I leaned back in my chair and let the silence ask whether she had heard herself.
“I needed data.”
“You needed to suffer personally before believing me.”
“That is an overstatement.”
“Is it?”
She ignored me and walked toward the consultation room. The annotated rules waited on the table. I sat across from her.
“Scheduled reconsideration,” I said.
“Yes.”
“What did you decide?”
