I barely slept. I tossed and turned, my mind a relentless carousel of questions, answers, and anxieties.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the faces of the interview panel, their expressions unreadable, their judgment final. I saw the faces of my players, their hopes and dreams intertwined with my own. I saw Emma's face, her unwavering belief a beacon in the storm of my self-doubt.
At 4 am, I gave up. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Emma, and went into the living room. I opened my laptop, the screen a harsh glare in the pre-dawn darkness. I needed to do something, anything, to quiet the noise in my head. I needed to be prepared. Not just for the questions I expected, but for the ones I didn't.
---
As the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, I closed my laptop. I was ready. I had done everything I could. The rest was in the hands of fate.
