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We take our places under the lights with the music booming in the background. I look out at the crowd and plant that empty smile back on my lips. After what feels like a century under the heat of the spotlights, they begin handing out the medals. My heart races in my chest.
This is it. Maybe Malcolm will come storming into the stadium waving some sort of proof over his head. The ceremony will come to a halt and the crowd will gasp as Maria and I trade places and they place the gold around my neck. That’s not how it goes. I bow my head to receive my bronze medal and wave to the cheering crowd. I want so badly for it all to be over so I can learn to put it behind me.
There’s a pause between the women’s and men’s awards, and I rejoin my team on the sidelines to wait. I lean against the wall and close my eyes. Malcolm is going to be so disappointed. I have to get over myself so I can assure him that he doesn’t need to feel bad about any of this.
Nothing that happened is his fault, and he isn’t obligated to try and fix things for me every time something in my life goes wrong. I love him. Holy shit, that’s right. I love him. I don’t need a gold medal as long as I have him.
“Your old man didn’t come in and save the day for you, huh? Tough break, sweetheart.”
I open my eyes and glare at Everet King.
“He was so sure he was gonna solve the mystery and close the case before they gave you that medal. I guess he isn’t the superhero you think he is. Sorry.”
“It’s not up to him.”
“He thinks it is. That’s his problem. He’s too egotistical.”
“You have the nerve to accuse someone else of being egotistical?” I laugh.
“Mine is well earned, honey. He’s just trying to be something he’s not.”
“Why does this all make you so happy? What do you have to gain from seeing me fail?”
“It’s not about your success or failure. It’s about your choices. You can keep spending your time with an old man or you can come over here and get your picture taken with a gold medal winner. I know what I would do if I were you. I bet I fuck better, too. More stamina, you know?”
“I doubt it very much.”
“Oh, look at that. They’re calling me to the podium. We’ll have to continue this later,” he says and walks toward the stage.
As he reaches the red rope, a team of security officers turn him around and escort him out of the arena. All eyes are on him and the announcer frantically calls for a fifteen-minute delay due to technical issues.
I strain my neck trying to see where they’re bringing him as all sorts of scenarios run through my mind. It’s obvious that Everet is being disqualified for something, but what? Maybe they found the bodies of those two German girls in their hotel room. Finding out he’s a psychopath wouldn’t surprise me at all.
Fifteen minutes pass and the announcer calls the male swimmers to the stage. They’ve postponed the diving medals for now. I can’t wait to get out of here so I can find out what Everet did. It won’t make my situation any better, but if they strip him of his medal, it will feel like justice just the same.
A security officer presses his hand over his earpiece and scans the line of swimmers. When his eyes reach me, he stops and walks toward me.
“Miss Graves, you need to come with me.”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know. I just know they want to see you in the committee chambers.”
My legs are shaking as I follow the burly man out of the arena.
14
MALCOLM
Security takes Marissa to the stadium and I leap into action.
Andrika found out that the timekeepers frequent a tavern not far from the stadium and all three of them are there now. The most important thing is for me to keep my temper. If one of them confesses, I’m going to want to rip him to pieces but that would be justice for me not for Marissa. She needs her record restored. She needs the gold medal that’s rightfully hers.
The tavern is quiet and the ceremony is playing on all of the television screens inside. As I pass I hear a woman say, “That American girl should have won.” I look up at the screen, and my body clenches in anger when I see Marissa standing in third place.
I spot the three men whose photos I saw on the Olympic website and approach them. Two of them look up at me with confusion on their faces. The third looks as though he’s about to shit his pants.
