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“Maybe,” Mirdza says. “Kris helped me when I was getting ready, and it saved me.”

“I don’t have a broken leg, and none of you know a thing about flat racing.”

Quicksilver tosses his head like he’s agreeing with me, but when a car pulls into the lot across the training yard, I’m suddenly glad they’re all here. Nojus’s brother is the last person I want to see.

“Are they coming every day?” Kris asks. “Because that’s annoying.”

Annoying isn’t the word I’d use.

“Why are they even here?” Mirdza asks.

“It’s a long story,” I say. “Let’s just say that I owed them a debt, and this race should eliminate it, finally.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill him?” Grigoriy’s scowling. “I can tell from here—that’s a bad man.”

Mirdza’s hands tighten on the fence, but she doesn’t argue.

For a brief second, I consider telling them to do it. What if I told Mirdza and her boyfriend the kind of man Mr. Rimkus is? Would they eliminate him for me? But who will take his place? I’ve been around long enough to know that the Nojuses of the world are always followed by someone at least as bad as they are.

Hopefully I can win this race, and then it’ll all be in the past, finally.

“Are we late?” Mr. Rimkus glares at Mirdza, Grigoriy, and Kristiana like they’re lying to him.

“Not at all,” I say. “We just finished our warm-up, but surely Lukas told you we won’t be doing timed runs every day.”

His eyes cut sideways to Lukas and then narrow.

“Of course I did,” Lukas says. “But he’d like to see one more today, just to make sure he’s made the right decision not to run Minnie.”

“That’s fine,” I say.

“When are you coming back to the track he’ll actually be running on?” Mr. Rimkus asks.

“A few days before the race itself should be fine,” I say.

Lukas nods. He starts asking Kris about the details of her track, and then he pulls out his timer.

“Four furlongs?” I ask.

Lukas frowns. “He wants eight.”

A full mile, timed. It’s a little early for such a long distance.

Quicksilver tosses his head though, dancing forward, and I can’t argue with everyone. “Fine, but then we get a week off from timed runs.”

Mr. Rimkus arches an eyebrow. “If it’s a satisfactory time.”

“What’s a good time for eight furlongs?” Mirdza asks.

“A minute fifty would be good for a green horse,” Lukas says. “But it would be nice if he was under a minute forty.”

“The record’s around a minute thirty,” Kris says. “Right?”

“Each lap is how long?” Mr. Rimkus asks.

“Four furlongs,” Kris says.

Twice around the track at top speed. We can do that, even if it’s a bit optimistic for an early time.