Page 20 of Blade

Emile lost his everything with that one fall. And he blamed Dawn and the way she’d trained him. But then she turned around and saved him, taking him on as a coach, giving him a place to stay.

“Emile was damaged when his career ended,” I remind Westin. “And damaged people ...”

“Damage people.” We finish his thought in unison. It’s a common expression in the field of trauma psychology.

Westin lets out a slight laugh. “The profession could use some new material.”

“It is true, though.”

“Well,” Westin says, shrugging this off. “The skaters all loved him. And he was an asset to Dawn and the program. I think we have to consider the possibility that Emile got in the sights of a deeply disturbed young woman. I know you want to believe she’s innocent, but the truth is, Ana, we haven’t had any issues at The Palace since you were here. Until now—with Jolene’s daughter.”

And then he says, “I was surprised when Artis told me you’d agreed to come.”

“Of course I came. Jolene and I were very close.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Westin says, his hands patting the air like he’s soothing a small child. “And Jolene has been here for twoweeks—visiting Grace while she trained for Nationals. Celebrating the holidays with her.”

A burst of wind smacks the window, drawing our attention outside, where an army of gray clouds has gathered.

I grip the arms of the chair as I try to follow his train of thought.

I was just five hours away when Emile was killed in that field. Jolene was here, in Echo. So was Grace, and she was the last person seen with Emile. And what did he just say?Damaged young woman.

My eyes return to the book. It’s a new cover from when I first read it years ago. Something about it had caught my eye, and I see it now, at the bottom. A line of print that says,With a foreword by renowned sports psychologist Dr. Gerard Westin.

Westin’s entire career, his life’s work, is tied to Dawn and The Palace. To the training methods he implemented. This all makes sense. And so does the new conclusion that I arrive at—Westin shouldn’t be anywhere near Grace or her defense team. Maybe he’s thinking the same thing about me—I could be a suspect. Or Jolene. He was subtle when he slipped that pin from his grenade.

“We’re expecting half a foot of snow,” Westin says, filling the uncomfortable silence between us. “I hope you and Artis can get where you need to go. Plows notwithstanding, we could easily get snowed in here.”

And now I think,here—in this condo. With Grace and Jolene. With Westin. A dead coach. A murder investigation. The truth hidden behind a young girl’s silence. Clues to that truth maybe buried somewhere in mine. Roads about to close. Keeping all of us, all of this, here.Here.

Grace’s words come back to my mind. “It’s not safe.” That was the part that sounded an alarm. But it wasn’t just that.

What she actually said was—

“It’s not safe here.”

Here, at The Palace? In Echo? That’s what I thought.

Or here—in this condo?

Westin notices the change on my face. “I’m wondering if Grace had any issues before arriving. Maybe because of her childhood. You spoke about it at the conference—about inherited trauma. Jolene left The Palace before you did.”

He pauses, draws a breath. Then tilts his head as he pulls the pin from another grenade.

“Do you know something about her time here, or why she left, that might shed some light? Maybe even from one of your famous theories that help get kids off the hook for violent crimes?”

I slowly place the book back on the table.

I’m about to answer, but then something catches my eye. I’m facing the doorway that leads to the foyer, so I’m the only one who sees her standing there, half of her body hidden behind the wall.

Grace.How long has she been listening?

“Ana?” Westin says when I don’t answer.

Right then, Grace lifts her finger to her lips, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed with panic.

And I swear I can hear it from across the room.