Chapter 3
THREE
SARAH
The SUV jerked forward. It was way too fast, and with way too much acceleration. Sarah sucked in a tight gasp.
“Easy—easy! Brake. Brake, Lily.”
The tires jolted against the pavement as Lily stomped on the brake pedal with a force that made Sarah’s entire soul lurch forward. She threw an arm out instinctively, catching Lily across the chest before they even remotely approached danger.
“I’m literally in a parking lot, Mom. Relax.”
Sarah exhaled sharply, her knuckles white where she gripped the “oh shit” handle above the passenger seat.
“I’d like to remain alive while in said parking lot,” Sarah shot back, leveling a look at her daughter. “Gentle movements. You’re not launching a rocket.”
Lily, ever the competitor, huffed adjusting her grip on the wheel.
Her Olympic rings tattoo, a battle Sarah had begrudgingly lost, peeked out from beneath the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
It was an eternal reminder that her daughter was—at sixteen—already one of the greatest gymnasts in the world.
A world-class athlete. A household name.
But here, in this car, in this empty parking lot, she was just Lily—a sixteen-year-old trying and failing to drive without causing the early, stress-related demise of her poor mother.
“Okay, okay,” Lily muttered, resetting her posture. She was determined now. Sarah could see it in the way her shoulders squared, the same way they did when she was about to mount the beam in competition.
Sarah sighed, rubbing her temple. “Alright. Let’s try again. Smoothly this time.”
Lily took a breath and gently pressed the gas, and this time, it wasn’t downright terrifying.
“Better,” Sarah admitted, her pulse only moderately elevated.
“See? Nailed it.”
Sarah hummed. “Let’s keep working on stopping and starting. I want to make sure you don’t send me through the windshield when we get on an actual road.”
Lily rolled her eyes as they fell into a comfortable rhythm. Accelerate smoothly, brake gently, coast, repeat. Sarah gradually relaxed. Almost.
It was strange—this version of Lily. She was the same brilliant, excitable, stubborn kid she had always been, but fame had stretched around her like a second skin.
It hadn’t changed her, not really, but Sarah could see the way it had shaped the edges.
How could it not? A year ago, she had been a fifteen-year-old with a dream.
Then she went to the Olympics and walked away with three gold medals.
Now? She couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized. She was on the front of cereal boxes, for crying out loud. But none of it seemed to faze Lily.
Here she was, squinting at the gearshift like it was an apparatus she had to conquer.
Sarah shook her head, grinning. “You can do flips on a four-inch-wide piece of wood in front of thousands of people, but driving has you sweating?”
Lily sighed loudly. “Driving is stupid. All you have to do is push pedals and turn a wheel. Where’s the artistry? It’s so dumb.”
Sarah held back her laughter, barely. “You don’t have to learn yet if you’re not ready.”
“I didn’t say that,” Lily objected. “I said it was dumb. Driving is about feeling it out and not dying. At least in gymnastics, if I screw up, I know exactly how to fix it.”
Sarah smiled, sensing her daughter’s nervousness beneath the layer of confidence she always showed the world. “It’s a little more nuanced than that, sweetie.”
She chose to ignore the response Lily muttered under her breath that included at least two words Lily knew better than to say. Still, she was proud as Lily successfully navigated a turn, pulling the car into a parking spot, only going over the lines slightly.
“That’s enough for today,” she declared. “Let’s switch seats before my blood pressure skyrockets any higher.”
With a triumphant smile, Lily unbuckled her seatbelt and Sarah took over the driver’s seat. As Sarah pulled out of the lot, she noticed Lily already scrolling through her phone, her fingers typing rapidly.
“So,” Lily said nonchalantly, “Wren’s game is tomorrow.”
Sarah nodded, listening while she navigated through traffic. “Yeah? Is it a big game for her?”
Lily grinned as she tucked her phone away, sitting up a little straighter. “Huge. They’re playing the Philadelphia Freedom.”
Sarah’s hands froze on the wheel.
The Philadelphia Freedom was Nell’s team. Did that mean Nell was in town?
For three weeks, Sarah had been examining and re-examining every moment of their dinner and how they had each toyed with the other.
“Toy” felt like the appropriate word, because the entire interaction had felt like a game to her—Nell making a move and watching how Sarah would respond.
Sarah, for her part, had surprisingly enjoyed it, as she found herself intrigued by what else the elusive Nell Stanhope had up her sleeve.
And then there was that card.
The black business card Nell had handed her as she left. A puzzle, she had called it. Which is exactly how Sarah felt about it—puzzled. She had made no progress on figuring out what the hell it meant, and it was driving her crazy. She, Sarah Gallagher, was never one to fail at anything.
Sarah hummed, keeping her tone neutral. “That’ll be fun. Wren’s been playing well this season.”
Lily brightened immediately. “Yeah. She’s on fire. We’ve been watching her game footage together. I keep telling her she’s too hard on herself, but she still doesn’t think she’s fast enough.”
Sarah smirked. Wren resembled a baby gazelle, all legs and limbs, but that didn’t keep her from being one of the fastest sprinters in the NWSL. “Ah, the irony. The fastest person you know thinks she’s slow.”
“Exactly.”
Sarah found herself tapping her fingers absently against the wheel as they came to a stop.
“Ever notice how Wren’s family never comes to any of her games? We’ve been friends for a year now, and I haven’t met her parents yet. That’s weird, right?”
Sarah had absolutely noticed the lack of parental figures in Wren’s life.
From a short conversation with Shannon York, Wren’s teammate and mentor, she learned that Wren’s home life was far from great.
She was living with an aunt in Seattle to be close to the team.
That conversation had been eye-opening and had given Sarah a much deeper appreciation for Wren Parker.
“Feeling like going to the game tomorrow?” Sarah asked.
Lily didn’t hesitate. “Obviously.”
Sarah expected that answer, but what she didn’t expect was how much she wanted to be there, too. Not just to support Wren. Not just to spend time with Lily. But because she had a feeling Nell Stanhope would be there. And Sarah? Sarah wanted to know exactly what the hell that card meant.
The next day, she and Lily arrived at the stadium.
Sarah had opted for the field-side VIP seats rather than a box for herself and Lily.
A strategic choice. She had watched enough games to know that if Nell were here, she was the type of team owner who would be near the action rather than tucked away in some executive suite.
The match was already in motion as they took their seats, and sure enough, there was Nell, exactly where Sarah expected her to be. She smiled smugly to herself as the stadium cameras panned to the owners of each team.
Sarah had seen her on camera before—seen the effortless control, the keen focus, the way she carried herself like a woman who had never once doubted her own power—but watching her live? That was something else entirely.
For most of the first half, Sarah watched Nell. She was close enough that she could keep an eye on her, but far enough away she was sure Nell hadn’t seen her and Lily sit down.
As the game went on, Sarah could see the slight shifts in Nell’s posture.
The way she tilted her head when she was pleased; the terseness of her expression when she wasn’t.
Sarah found her presence intoxicating. She watched the game the way a stockbroker watches the market—locked in and laser focused.
Lily, utterly oblivious to Sarah’s internal observation, was wholly invested in the game, perched on the edge of her seat, hands clasped as she watched Wren weave her way down the field.
“Come on,” she muttered under her breath.
“A little tense there, hun?” Sarah joked, nudging Lily with her elbow.
Lily didn’t look at her, instead keeping her eyes glued to the field. “It’s just annoying seeing people hesitate. She had a lane.”
“I know Wren appreciates how much you care, Lily, but don’t forget she has coaches. She needs you to be her friend, someone who is there for her.”
Lily shrugged. “Yeah, I guess, but that’s not really our thing, you know?
I’ve been taking notes and everything. And if she wants to get called up to the next national team camp, she’s got to be at her best. That’s what we do.
We hype each other up. I know she can’t come to a lot of my competitions because of the travel, but she always watches and takes notes for me. ”
That was the thing about Lily—even with three Olympic gold medals, even with a name the entire world recognized, she still talked about her friends like she was just another kid who loved the game.
In Wren, Lily had someone who understood what it was like to be a teenage professional athlete, someone who understood her daughter’s drive and her fire and cheered her on endlessly.
She and Beth had always been adamant about doing their best to keep Lily as grounded as possible—to try and protect her innocence while also honoring the true force that she was. But, as Lily’s moms, there was only so much of Lily’s world they could understand.
A whistle blew, signaling the end of the first half, and right as Sarah was about to get up to stretch, she felt it. A presence. The unmistakable weight of being watched. She knew before she even turned.
Nell approached with the same reserved elegance as always.
Sarah met her gaze, and for a fraction of a second, she’d swear she saw amusement there.