The laughter stopped when I locked the gym door. Not because they were scared. Not yet.
The metallic click behind me was barely audible above the hum of the fluorescent lights and the muffled sound of distant music near the locker room. Dustin’s coach, Cal Mercer, crossed his enormous arms over his chest and looked at me as if I’d just walked into the wrong bar and dared to challenge the furniture.
« Do you really think this little speech will change anything? » he asked.
I looked past him. Straight at Dustin.
« This isn’t about proving who’s the strongest, » I said. « It’s about Marcy. »
Dustin gave me the same grin he’d had the first time he came to our house. Back then, he’d arrived with flowers. White lilies. My wife had thought it was touching. Marcy had seemed happier than I’d seen her in months.
