Mira's POV
I yanked my arm away from the woman and stumbled backward.
"Don't touch me!" Water from the sprinklers dripped down my face. "I don't even know who you are!"
"My name is Sarah Martinez." The woman pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were brown and serious. "I'm a former figure skater. And right now, I'm the only person who can keep you safe."
Behind me, the two men burst through the exit door. They stopped when they saw Sarah.
"Get away from her," the taller man growled.
Sarah stepped between me and them. "You really want to do this in a public parking lot? With security cameras watching?"
The men looked at each other.
"Victoria won't like this," the shorter one said.
"Tell Victoria that if she wants the evidence, she'll have to go through me first." Sarah's voice was hard as ice. "And trust me, she doesn't want that."
The men glared at us for another second. Then they turned and walked back inside.
My legs felt like jelly. I thought I might fall over.
"Come on." Sarah grabbed my hand—gentler this time. "We need to leave before they come back with more people."
She led me to a silver car parked nearby. I got in because I didn't know what else to do. My brain felt fuzzy, like I'd just woken up from a dream. Or a nightmare.
Sarah started the car and drove out of the parking lot fast.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere Victoria can't find you."
I looked out the window. We were driving away from the arena, away from everything familiar. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Seventeen missed calls from Mom. Ten from Dad. Three from Coach Maria.
And one new message from Damien: Mira, please. We need to talk. I can explain everything.
I turned off my phone.
"Good idea," Sarah said. "They can track phones."
"Who are you really?" I asked. "And how do you know so much about Victoria?"
Sarah was quiet for a moment. She turned onto the highway.
"Twelve years ago, I was ranked number two in ladies' singles. I was seventeen. One performance away from making the Olympic team." Her voice got softer. "The night before Nationals, someone broke into my hotel room. They injected something into my ankle while I slept. The next day, I couldn't even stand up. The doctors said it was a severe allergic reaction. They never figured out to what."
"That's horrible," I whispered.
"I knew it wasn't an allergy. Someone did it on purpose. But I couldn't prove it. Nobody believed me. They said I was making excuses." Sarah's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I spent years investigating. Following leads. Talking to other skaters who'd had 'accidents' right before big competitions. That's how I learned about Victoria Cross."
"What does she want? Why does she do this?"
"Money. Power. Control." Sarah glanced at me. "She works for wealthy families who want their kids to win no matter what. The Santos twins' parents paid her two million dollars to make sure they make the Olympic team. Victoria's job is to eliminate the competition. By any means necessary."
Two million dollars. I couldn't even imagine that much money.
"How many people has she hurt?" I asked.
"That I know of? Fifteen skaters over the past twelve years. But I think there are more." Sarah turned off the highway onto a small road. "Some got injured mysteriously. Some got disqualified for things they didn't do. Some just disappeared from skating entirely."
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I tried. Victoria's too smart. She never leaves evidence. Never gets her hands dirty. She hires people to do the actual work. And she has connections—judges, officials, even some police officers. The system is rigged."
We pulled up to a small house at the end of a quiet street. It looked normal. Old. Like somebody's grandmother lived there.
"This is my place," Sarah said. "Come on. We have a lot to talk about."
Inside, the house was full of papers. Photographs covered one entire wall. Red strings connected them like a spider web.
"Is this..." I stepped closer. "Is this all about Victoria?"
"Every person she's ever hurt. Every competition she's ever rigged. Twelve years of research." Sarah walked to her desk and picked up a laptop. "And now, thanks to you, I finally have what I need to stop her."
"What do you mean?"
"The flash drive Victoria took from the office? That was a fake. A copy." Sarah smiled. "I still have the original. And I have something even better."
She opened the laptop and turned it toward me. A video started playing.
It showed Victoria in a fancy office, talking to a man and woman. The Santos twins' parents, I realized. The timestamp said it was from three weeks ago.
"So we have a deal?" the father asked. "You guarantee our daughters make the Olympic team?"
"Guaranteed," Victoria said. "Mira Chen and Damien Rodriguez won't be a problem much longer. I've already arranged everything."
"And the other competitors?"
"I have plans for them too. By the end of Nationals, Elena and Sofia will be the only viable option for the committee."
The mother leaned forward. "You won't hurt anyone, will you? We want our daughters to win, but we don't want anyone seriously injured."
Victoria smiled. It was the scariest smile I'd ever seen.
"Mrs. Santos, I've been doing this for over a decade. I know exactly how much to hurt someone without it being permanent. Trust me. Your daughters will go to the Olympics. I promise."
The video ended.
I felt cold all over.
"How did you get this?" I whispered.
"I've been tracking Victoria for years. Watching. Waiting. I finally got a camera into her office last month." Sarah closed the laptop. "This video is enough to send her to prison. To expose everything she's done. To get justice for all the skaters she's hurt."
"So let's go to the police right now!"
"It's not that simple." Sarah shook her head. "Victoria has powerful friends. If we go to the regular police, someone will warn her. She'll destroy evidence. She'll disappear. We need to go higher up. Federal authorities. And we need more than just this video."
"What else do we need?"
"We need testimony. We need Damien to tell the truth about what Victoria did to him. About the threats against his sister."
My stomach dropped. "Damien won't do that. He's too scared. And I don't want to talk to him anyway."
"Mira, I know you're hurt. I know you feel betrayed. But Damien is a victim too."
"He dropped me on purpose!" My voice came out louder than I meant. "He ruined everything!"
"To save his sister's life," Sarah said quietly. "What would you have done in his place?"
I thought about my little brother, Tommy. He was nine. If someone threatened him...
Yeah. I'd do anything to protect him. Even betray my best friend.
"We need Damien's testimony," Sarah continued. "And we need you to convince him to give it."
"He won't listen to me. Not after I told him I knew everything."
Sarah pulled out her phone and showed me a message: Damien Rodriguez has been trying to call you 47 times. He sent you 23 text messages. He's desperate to talk to you.
"He wants to apologize," Sarah said. "He wants to explain. Use that. Meet with him. Get him to tell you everything on camera. Then we'll have enough to take down Victoria forever."
I stared at the phone. Forty-seven calls. Twenty-three messages.
Part of me wanted to help. Wanted to stop Victoria from hurting anyone else.
But another part of me wanted to never see Damien again.
"I need time to think," I said.
"We don't have much time. The Olympic committee makes their final decision in six weeks. If we don't stop Victoria before then, the Santos twins will go to the Olympics. And Victoria will have won."
My phone buzzed. I'd turned it back on to check Mom's messages.
But this wasn't from Mom.
It was from an unknown number. A different one than before.
Stop investigating or your brother Tommy gets hurt. This is your only warning.
Below the message was a photograph.
Tommy. At his school. Playing at recess.
Someone had been watching him.
My hands started shaking so badly I dropped the phone.
Sarah picked it up and read the message. Her face went pale.
"They know where you live. They know about your family." She looked at me. "Mira, you're not safe. Your family isn't safe. Victoria is escalating."
"What do I do?" My voice cracked. "What do I DO?"
Sarah was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, "We have to end this. Now. Tonight. Before Victoria hurts anyone else."
"How?"
"There's one person who can help us. Someone Victoria fears. Someone with enough power to protect your family and take her down." Sarah took a deep breath. "But you're not going to like who it is."
"Who?"
"Marcus Chen. Your father's brother. Your uncle."
My blood ran cold.
"I don't have an Uncle Marcus," I said slowly.
"Yes, you do. Your parents never told you about him because he's a dangerous man. He runs a private security company. He's helped the FBI take down criminals before. He's also..." Sarah hesitated. "He's also been looking for you for years."
"Why?"
"Because before you were born, he and your father made a deal. If you ever needed protection, Marcus would provide it. No questions asked. Your father hoped that day would never come." Sarah looked at me. "But it's here now. We need Marcus's help."
"Where is he?"
"He's in the city. About an hour away. We can call him right now."
My mind was spinning. A secret uncle? A deal between him and Dad? Why had nobody ever told me?
But then I thought about Tommy's picture. About Victoria's threats. About Damien's little sister Emma.
"Call him," I said.
Sarah nodded and pulled out her phone. She dialed a number.
It rang once. Twice.
"Marcus? It's Sarah Martinez. I have your niece with me. She needs your help."
A pause.
"Yes, I'm sure it's her. She's in danger. Victoria Cross is after her."
Another pause. Then Sarah's face changed. She looked confused. Then shocked.
"What do you mean?" she said into the phone. "Marcus, what are you talking about?"
She listened for a moment. Then slowly lowered the phone.
"What?" I asked. "What did he say?"
Sarah stared at me with wide eyes.
"He said he can't help you. He said to run. He said Victoria doesn't work alone. She has a partner. Someone on the inside. Someone in figure skating. Someone close to you."
"Who?"
"He wouldn't say. He just said: 'Tell Mira not to trust anyone. Not even her coach.'"
The phone slipped from Sarah's hand and clattered on the floor.
And then the lights went out.