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Here we go.

The game flew by, and both teams had definitely come to win.

Brett doubled to deep right center in the bottom of the second and brought Dominic and Alejandro in to give us the first points of the game.

But then the Cardinals rallied in the next inning after TJ homered with two runners already on base.

Nick singled to left center in the bottom of the fourth, bringing Troy barreling into TJ as he slid into home. A couple of batters later, Brett brought Nick in with a shallow single to center and gave us the lead again.

When I had taken the mound in the top of the fifth, one of the Cardinal outfielders, Asher, hit the shit out of my curveball and drove in Matt—who got on base thanks to a very generous and very bullshit ball-four call. Asher didn’t stay on base long though. He tried stealing second a few moments later but never made it.

Dominic tagged him out a second after he hit the dirt to slide.

Never underestimate the cannon of an arm Troy has from behind the plate.

Another Crowley Cardinal hit a lucky blooper off my changeup just over Dominic a moment later, but I got the next guy to hit a grounder into a double play. The score stayed tied 4–4.

The sixth inning was a blur. Both teams had three up and three down, with the only hit coming from Alejandro, who popped up and gave TJ an easy catch behind the plate.

But finally, in the bottom of the seventh, a miracle happened. David, our third baseman, who hadn’t hit well most of the season, popped a sacrifice fly to right field that brought home Nick. Our bench emptied with cheers.

We were now up 5–4.

Two innings left.

If we could hold them off for just a bit longer, the game would be ours.

As I took the mound a moment later, I snuck a quick look into the stands at my grandparents and Mom. The three of them smiled and waved, and for the first time in days, the tension in my shoulders and neck lifted away.

They were here for me. And they’d be here for me no matter what happened tonight.

Pitching was risky as hell, yes, but damn, I loved it.

Granddad was right. I was the most exposed guy on this field. I wasn’t untouchable. And it didn’t matter that I towered over the guys at the plate. Or how fast my two-seamer was.

What mattered was my love of the game.

If I remembered that, no matter the outcome, I could walk away from this game with my head held high.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Eliza

“But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail.”

—William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Groups of fireflies milled about near the tree line, as if they wanted a front-row seat for the show. If I listened carefully enough, the chirping of tiny tree frogs down by the river mingled with the low whirr of energy pulsing around me from the audience.

Sure, the amphitheater didn’t have air conditioning or velvet seats or a top-of-the-line sound and lighting system, but performing Shakespeare here, outside, felt pretty darn magical. If I closed my eyes long enough, I was transported to the Globe. Maybe it was the night air or the tension of the tragedy about to unfold, but this performance felt like it would be our best yet.

I thought we had lost everything over a week ago with the fire, but really, we gained something more than I ever could’ve imagined.

We had become a family.

I cupped my left hand around the mouthpiece of my headset. “The audience seem overly quiet to you, Cara?”

Silence filled the receiver for a long minute before she replied in a whisper, “Well, it is a tragedy. And it’s not like they don’t know what’s about to go down.”