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"Everything will be closed." I sigh, putting my head between my knees.

"I'm going to check again," Andrew says, running off down the hall where the locker rooms are.

"Everything okay?" I hear Gunnar ask, and I look up at him, standing in front of Cami and looking concerned.

"My bag didn't arrive," I say, trying to calm my breathing. "I can't shoot the last of The Drop."

"What!? No way it's got to be here. I saw you put it on the bus." He shakes his head. Grant, Adam, and Bear catch the tail end as they approach us.

"It arrived and now it's gone."

Cami explains as I go back to wallowing with my head between my knees. "Didn't you shoot some of it already to get the colours, right? Maybe just try to edit those in amongst the good pics?"

"And when I don't get the bag back and can't ship the clothes?" I reply, not lifting my head.

"I did not think of that."

"We've got some time we can look for it," Adam says, rubbing my shoulder. I look up at Grant and can see he's conflicted. He needs to get his head and his teams in the game.

"No, you guys need to focus," I say, standing. "I'm fine. I'll just come up with something."

"Are you sure?" Grant asks

"Totally!" I smile, and it keeps them happy. "Good luck," I say, hugging the other guys. I hug Grant a little longer than necessary. He rubs my back as he lets go, the only comfort he can give me without outing us.

They head down the same hallway Andrew did, and I catch Grant looking back, so I give him a reassuring smile, which he returns.

"So, any ideas?" Cami asks as I turn back to face her.

"Zero." I sit back down, defeated

Chapter Forty One

Brooke

The game is over, the team won, and I got one shot of the only shirt I had accidentally stuffed in Cami’s bag. The shot was edited while watching the game, and I’m facing the reality that The Drops is going to launch with half the collection missing.

Feeling disappointed as we head toward the area where we are meeting the team to head back on the bus.

“Sorry, B,” Cami says. “I wish I had thought to split the bags between us.”

Sighing, I lean against the wall and feel the stress wash over me in waves. I had already written The Drops projections into my paper, which is ready to be submitted, but now I’m going to have to go in and edit it before we leave tomorrow morning, as well as explain what happened to my professor.

“This sucks.” Leaning my head back.

“BROOKE! BROOKE!” Someone shouts my name as they run down the hall, pushing past the crowds, trying to leave the arena. “I got it! I got it!”

I push off the wall and run toward a panting Andrew holding the wheeled holdall containing The Drop.

“Oh my God,” I shout. “Where was it?” I gasp, opening the bag and running my fingers over the fabric, checking that they are all there.

“The other team manager took it, thinking it was one of their guys leaving straight for winter break.” He’s doubled over, bless him. “Only realised when no one claimed it before the game.”

“How long do we have until we leave?” Cami asks.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Can we make that work?” I say, looking at Cami. “Twenty-three players?”