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“Yeah,” she said. “I do. But you were right about something else too.”

I looked over.

She came closer, gaze fierce. “I am a fucking incredible skater.”

I laughed. “Damn right you are.”

“And tomorrow, we’re going to make every one of those assholes regret asking whether we belong here.”

The last cut inside me hardened into something cleaner. Something I could use. I straightened away from the wall. Ren was going to skate perfectly tomorrow. Everyone knew it. His edges would be exact. His timing would be flawless. He’d walk onto that ice with the whole world already convinced he deserved to win.

Fine.

Let them doubt me. Let them watch for mistakes. Let them wait for skating’s bad boy to fall apart. I’d spent my whole life being told I wasn’t good enough. Tomorrow, I was going to make them watch as I proved otherwise.

TWENTY-ONE

REN

Cam’s interview had been brutal. It was everywhere. All over the news, local and international. People I hadn’t heard from in months were messaging me with links to various clips. Reporters had found my number and wanted a response to the fact we weren’t talking. But there was only one clip I watched over and over.

“Tomorrow, on the ice, none of you get to interrupt me. None of you get to tell me who I am, or where I belong, or whose shadow I’m supposed to be standing in. My skating will do the talking for me.”

He’d looked pale and wide-eyed, and had been doing his best to hold himself together. Anyone would have struggled in front of such a hostile crowd.

I watched it again.

“None of you get to tell me who I am, or where I belong, or whose shadow I’m supposed to be standing in.”

He’d clearly been angry and emotional at that point, with good reason. The interview should have been shut down long before then.

I sat back at the table in my apartment, phone in my hand. Camden was braver than me. He stood up for what he believed in, even when it cost him. I believed in him, but I’d shut him out. A brave man, like him, would have stood up to my father and suffered the consequences, because it was the right thing to do. But in our situation, Camden would suffer those consequences, not me. I could not put that on him. I could not take this chance for him to prove everyone wrong away from him.

I didn’t deserve him.

The day of the rhythm dance arrived, and the nerves climbed.

Cam and Zoe were scheduled to perform in group five, the last group of the day.

Tamsyn and I were in group one, one of the first out. I preferred to be first. Watching others on the ice before your own performance could prove to be psychologically distracting.

I didn’t look for Cam. Or his team. This was not the time for personal emotion.

Tamsyn and I stood with the other three teams, trying to loosen up with the competition now just minutes away.

We’d be watched by millions around the world. Scrutinized and judged. Our performance in the next ten minutes would secure us a place in the free dance. I wasn’t all that concerned about getting through. We were both at the top of our game. But the points today would be carried forward to the free dance in two days, and the combined total dictated the overall medal winners.

We got the three-minute warning. I unzipped my Team GB jacket and handed it to one of the team assistants. The vast, empty expanse of ice stretched in front of us. Cameras roamed among us with open mics, capturing the tense few moments before we stepped onto the rink.

An announcer welcomed everyone to the start of the ice-dance medal event, and listed the names of the judges today.

The spectator seats were full. People in team colors, holding up banners. Friends. Family.

This was the moment. The pinnacle of my entire career. Sapporo. Winter Olympics. Potential gold. Prove to my father that I hadn’t wasted his efforts on me.

I didn’t get a second chance.

“And let’s welcome our first group of ice dancers to the ice,” the announcer declared in English, with Japanese following.