Page 10 of Breadwinner
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 beclose 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.