Page 277 of Blackwood

Onto her throne. The lights follow us as we walk, three shadows cast in scarlet and white, like a coronation. Her head held high, that shimmery burgundy-and-black outfit catching every ray of light.

When we hit center court, she halts. The spotlight finds her. And for a split second, the whole damn world goes quiet.

“You’ve got this, baby.”

Chapter 75

BELLA

Wexley University

63 Days Since Daddy’s Death

“Alright everyone,” Knox says, voice echoing across the gym, “listen up.” A few people whistle and cheer from the bleachers, but he lifts a hand to quiet them. “This one’s a little different.”

I pull in a breath, steadying myself at half court.

His tone shifts, softer, but strong. “Today’s not just a dress rehearsal for Nationals. It’s not just warm ups before tonight’s Row party at the Catacombs. Today is a celebration of this team, this girl—” he points to me, “—and her dad.”

The gym quiets.

“Henry Harrington was the kind of man who showed up. To every game. Every performance. Every moment that mattered. So today, we show up for his girl.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Just breathe.

“And y’all better behave, because if any of you make her cry, I swear to God, Lex will kick your ass, Cade will paint your tombstone, and I’ll DJ your funeral.”

The gym’s still echoing with laughter when Knox lifts the mic again, that smug little smirk stretching across his face like he’s been dying to drop this bomb.

“Now Bella…” he says, dragging it out like it’s a game. “Before you start shaking your sparkly ass out here and stealing the show, some of our Wolves have a little surprise for you.”

Cal and August start to walk out on the court and stand beside me.

“Alright, Wexley,” Knox booms, voice bouncing off every wall like a damn cannon. “We know you know this one, because we all practiced it, so it’s time to…” He raises his hands in the air. “CALL. THOSE. HOGS!”

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

“WOOOOO. PIG. SOOIE!”

My heart stutters. My breath gets stuck somewhere between my ribs.

“WOOOOO. PIG. SOOIE!”

It’s like a freight train of memories—game nights, lake weekends, Razorback red everywhere. Daddy yelling louder than anyone else in the stadium.

“WOOOOO. PIG. SOOIE! RAZORBACKS!”

The gym explodes. And I break. Tears hit my cheeks and my knees almost buckle. It’s perfect. It’s Arkansas. It’s Daddy.

Cal opens his arms and I walk right into them as he lifts me in the air.

“Told you we had you,” he says, holding me tight.

“This was your idea?” I cry.

“For you, Razorback.”

I try to laugh, but it comes out like a sob. “My dad would’ve lost his mind.”