“Why did Heath leave with your coach?”
“Are you planning to petition for a spot on the team? Or is this it for Shaw and Rocha?”
Katarina ignores all the questions, trying to push past. She’s visibly struggling under the weight of both her bags and Heath’s, which slows her down. Another voice pipes up.
“Hey, Kat.”
It’s Ellis Dean. Katarina stops.
“Tell me,” Ellis says, “why do you and Heath deserve to go to the Games again?”
Chapter 72
“Why do you and Heath deserve to go to the Games again?”
Everyone fell silent, cameras at the ready to record my response to Ellis.
The question seemed like a blatant provocation—bait dangled to entice me into an arrogant, scorched-earth speech proclaiming that Shaw and Rocha were the best, that they’d be idiots to leave us off the team, that we were sure to wipe the floor with our competition in Sochi.
But Ellis wasn’t holding a microphone or a camera. He wasn’t trying to set me up to spark some easy clickbait. He was giving me a chance—to remind the world of our past accomplishments, to plead for understanding about our coach’s medical emergency, to make a sincere case in favor of sending us to Sochi despite everything.
The perfect opportunity to defend myself, and I couldn’t come up with a single point in my own favor. All I could think about was whether my best friend was all right.
“We don’t,” I said.
Ellis raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“Heath and I don’t deserve to go. No more than the other teams competing tonight.”
The space around us exploded with shutters, flashbulbs, more shouted questions. Ellis smirked. Then he stood aside with a sweep of his arm, making me a narrow path to the exit.
—
The staff at Massachusetts General couldn’t stop staring. I wasn’t sure whether they recognized me, or were simply taken aback by my heavy makeup, which no doubt looked even tackier after my mad dash from the arena to the hotel to the hospital.
Bella had a private room. She was sitting up, and she appeared brighter and more comfortable than before, even with all the wires and tubes attached to her.
“Hey,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I might have to kill you, though. Why thehelldidn’t you skate?”
Yes, Bella was definitely feeling better. “Because Heath—”
“Heath would have stayed if you asked him to.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He went to find something to eat that isn’t watermelon Jell-O.” She made a face. Then her expression turned serious. “Listen, I hate that you have to find out like this, but—”
“You’re pregnant.”
Bella took a breath in. “How did you know?”
