Mira's POV
My hand pushed open the heavy door to the parking lot, and cold air slapped my face.
This was stupid. I knew it was stupid. Mom always said never meet strangers alone. But my legs kept moving anyway, carrying me toward Section C.
The parking lot was almost empty. Most people were still inside watching the other skaters. A few cars sat scattered around like lonely islands. My breath came out in white clouds.
"Hello?" I called out. My voice sounded small and scared.
Nobody answered.
I pulled out my phone and read the message again. Section C. Come alone.
I was in Section C. Where was this person?
A car door slammed behind me.
I spun around. A woman walked toward me wearing a long black coat and sunglasses. Sunglasses. In a parking lot. At night. That was weird.
"Mira Chen?" the woman asked.
"Who are you?" I took a step back.
"Someone who can help you." She stopped a few feet away. "I saw what happened to Damien."
"It was an accident." But even as I said it, I wasn't sure. Why did this woman say she knew what *really* happened?
"Was it?" The woman tilted her head. "Damien's been your partner for eight years. You've done that throw quad perfectly fifty-seven times in practice. What are the chances he suddenly collapses right before you land?"
Fifty-seven times. How did she know that?
"Who are you?" I asked again, louder this time.
"My name doesn't matter. What matters is that someone sabotaged your performance tonight."
The word hit me like a punch. "Sabotaged? That's crazy. Nobody would—"
"The Santos twins needed you to fail." The woman cut me off. "They're in second place. If you and Damien finished your program clean, you'd beat them. They'd miss the Olympics."
The Santos twins. Elena and Sofia. They'd been skating together since they were six. They were good. Really good. But they'd never seemed mean or nasty.
"That doesn't prove anything," I said. But my heart was beating faster.
"Damien drank water from his bottle right before you went on the ice. Didn't he?"
I thought back. Yes. He always took three sips before a performance. Good luck ritual.
"Someone put something in that water. Something that made his muscles cramp. Made his knee give out at exactly the wrong moment."
No. That couldn't be true. Could it?
"You're lying," I said. But I didn't sound sure.
The woman reached into her pocket. I tensed, ready to run. But she only pulled out a small bottle. It looked exactly like Damien's water bottle.
"This is Damien's bottle. I took it from the locker room. Have it tested. You'll see I'm right."
She held it out to me.
I stared at it. If I took it, I was saying I believed her. I was saying someone deliberately hurt Damien. Hurt us. Destroyed our Olympic dream.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked.
The woman was quiet for a moment. "Because the same thing happened to me. Twelve years ago. Someone sabotaged my performance at Nationals. I never made it to the Olympics. I never got a chance to prove what I could do."
"Who did it to you?"
"That's not important now. What's important is stopping it from happening to anyone else."
I reached for the bottle. My fingers closed around the cold plastic.
"Get it tested," the woman said. "Then you'll know the truth. But be careful who you tell. The Santos twins have powerful people helping them. Their coach. Maybe even officials."
Officials? That meant judges. People in charge.
"If someone really did this..." My voice shook. "What do I do?"
"You fight back." The woman's voice turned hard. "You expose them. You make sure everyone knows what they did."
"But Damien's hurt. Even if you're right, we can't compete anymore."
"You can't compete at Nationals. But there's another way to make the Olympic team."
My heart jumped. "What way?"
"The committee can make special exceptions. If you can prove you were sabotaged, if you can show them what you can really do, they might give you another chance."
Another chance. Hope bloomed in my chest like a flower.
But then reality crashed back down. "Damien's knee might be seriously injured. He can't skate."
"Then find another partner."
I almost laughed. "You can't just find another partner. It takes years to build that kind of trust."
"You have six weeks until the committee makes their final decision. Six weeks to find a partner, learn to skate together, and prove you deserve to go to the Olympics."
Six weeks. That was impossible.
Wasn't it?
"I have to go," the woman said suddenly. She looked over her shoulder like she heard something. "Remember. Be careful who you trust. And whatever you do, don't drink or eat anything you didn't prepare yourself."
She turned and walked quickly toward a dark car.
"Wait!" I called. "What's your name? How do I contact you?"
The woman opened her car door. She looked back at me one last time.
"Watch your back, Mira. The Santos twins already got rid of one competitor. They won't hesitate to get rid of another."
She got in the car and drove away.
I stood alone in the parking lot, holding Damien's water bottle.
My phone buzzed.
Another message from the unknown number: Check your locker. Someone left you a present.
My blood ran cold.
Someone had been in my locker?
I ran back inside, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might explode.