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There was no way to stop my reaction. My eyes shot wide and blood drained from my face. My memory went back to that night and I tried to remember anything about a coat…and it hit me. Kova had shrugged his coat off that night to put over my shoulders to keep me warm. I didn't recall him leaving it behind until now.
"It was Hayden's," I said quickly. "He said he misplaced it. He'll be happy to know it's been found."
"That's interesting." She sipped her wine with knowing eyes and a smirk so cunning that I shifted in my chair. She was hiding something. I knew she was.
"What are you getting at, Joy?" Dad crossed his leg in front of the other. His curiosity piqued, but annoyance prevalent more than anything.
"Nothing. Merely observing how gorgeous your daughter is." Her honeyed voice dripped with suspicion. Mom's eyes dropped to mine. I knew better than to look away—it would scream guilt and I made it a point not to waver as she put me under the spotlight.
Maybe I was too good because I caught a glitter of something in her eyes before she quickly blinked it away.
I swallowed hard and feigned exhaustion with a yawn. I stood, but I stood too fast and flinched with a hobble, gasping in pain. I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut. A twitch of heat jerked in my leg. Shit. I grimaced, grabbing onto the chair.
"Everything all right?" Kova asked. He gingerly held my bicep to steady my balance.
"Yes," I gritted through the pain that was no doubt connected to my Achilles. I stood with a bent knee. "My muscles are just a little tight right now. That's all."
Kova's eyes narrowed. "Hmmm. When we get back to town, make sure you see your doctor."
Creases formed between my bows. "Why? I'm fine."
"I do not like the way you are standing. You are clearly in discomfort."
"You should listen to your coach," Dad added. "He knows what he's talking about."
"Yes." Mom dragged out the S sound. "Listen to your coach." She finished in a syrupy, sarcastic voice.
I scoffed. "Kova, I'm fine. I'm just sore."
Dropping to his knees, he ordered me to sit. He took my foot into his hand and massaged his way around my previous injury while Mom watched. My stomach contracted with discomfort but I held still, my lips in a firm line and face neutral as Kova glanced up when he pinched the back of my ankle.
I gave him my best see there's nothing wrong look while biting the inside of my lip and dying inside.
His touch was light, tender, and I still drew blood. He pinched again, and it was the same sting I felt zip up my spine when I ended my first tumbling pass on floor. I swallowed hard and stared into his eyes, hoping to prove to him there was nothing wrong. I couldn't afford another setback, especially after testing elite. I thought something snapped in the back of my ankle, but I needed to awe the judges with my floor routine, so I persevered and pushed harder than ever before. Eventually, I forgot about it.
It was the same event Kova talked me through. The one where I discovered that I was fierce and strong and that I needed to let my passion burn bright for everyone to see.
"I have been doing this a long time, Ri—Adrianna. I know an injury when I see it."
My heart sank and I didn't dare glance in my mom's direction. He almost slipped up.
"There's nothing there," I insisted.
"You have to see your doctor soon?" Dad asked, his eyes barely leaving his phone.
I nodded. "Yes."
"Good. Make sure you have them recheck your foot when you're there," he said. Your foot. I grimaced. It was actually the back of my ankle and calf, but who cares.
Kova placed my foot down and I let out a silent breath of pain. He glanced at me, but I masked the terror in my eyes and smiled. He sat back down and went into some mundane conversation with Dad, all the while my mom's eyes were trained on me like a cat in heat as she sipped her wine.
A stone boulder sat heavy in my stomach. There was something seriously wrong with my leg that left me panic stricken. But worse, the look in my mom's eyes shook me to the core. I knew in my gut she was scheming. If only I could see what she had up her Chanel sleeve.
Chapter Forty-Five
I'd woken up in a foul mood.
Tired and in pain, I crawled out of bed like a ninety-year-old woman who needed a walker. Swollen eyes to match my swollen ankle. I was a broken record on replay every damn day and I was getting sick of my own thoughts.
