Chapter 8 · No Finish Line for Me

Chapter 8

Iris stood at the edge of the stage, fussing with her collar.Her racing suit was spotless, like she'd never actually raced a real lap or hit a gravel road in her life.Patrick stood beside her, whispering instructions. "Keep it short up there. Just stick to the script."Iris asked, "And what about Velma?""I'll handle it."I heard that and shot back, "What? Are you planning to get rid of my body or something?"Patrick turned to me. "Lydia."I stared at the giant screen up on stage."Don't call me. You're bad luck," I said.Noah was standing by the control panel, and he shot me a look from across the crowd.He didn't nod, didn't signal.That was exactly what I wanted.The more it looked like nothing was going on, the safer we'd be.The host began to hype up Iris."She has faced tough times, but never once backed down. Her determination is what made her a champion," he announced.I leaned over to the bodyguard next to me and muttered, "You actually believe any of that?"The bodyguard pretended not to hear me.The host called out my name. "Let's welcome Lydia Weaver!"My wheelchair was wheeled onto the stage.Every camera in the audience was pointed right at me.I spotted Henry in the front row.He was leaning on his cane, his face grim.The lawyer beside him was watching me like I was a contract that could blow up at any second.The host handed me the microphone."Ms. Weaver, a lot of racing fans are feeling pretty heartbroken today. Is there anything you'd like to say to everyone?" he asked.Patrick stood half a step behind me. From that spot, he could grab my shoulder or snatch the mic away before I even finished a sentence.I gripped the mic and looked straight at Iris.She was smiling, waiting for me to back down.I said, "I do have something to say."Patrick's hand rested on the back of my wheelchair.I reached inside my hospital gown and pulled out the paper.The flashbulbs in the audience went off like a storm.I read word-for-word from the script they forced on me. "Because of my own mistake behind the wheel, the accident happened in the finals."Iris visibly relaxed.Patrick let go of the back of my wheelchair.I kept reading, "I take full responsibility and am retiring from professional racing."The host nodded, looking genuinely moved."Ms. Weaver, you're truly brave," he said.I stared at the last line. "I'm ready to give up this season's championship to—"I stopped.Iris's smile died right there.Patrick growled under his breath, "Keep reading."I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with the camera. "To the real champion, the one who never even touched the brakes."The crowd went dead silent for a second, then the whispers started spreading like wildfire.The host's face went pale. "Ms. Weaver, what do you mean by that?" he asked.Patrick reached for the microphone.I gripped it tighter and said, "What I mean is, my crash wasn't an accident."Iris shrieked, "Lydia, are you out of your mind?"Patrick hissed, "Cut her mic."But Noah didn't move a muscle at the control panel.The host panicked. "Director, switch to the promo reel."The big screen flickered. But instead of the promo, the screen cut to the pit lane.The timestamp showed it was the night before the finals.The camera angle was low, as if it was tucked away on the side of a helmet.In the footage, Iris, in black gloves, was crouched next to my race car.She looked around to make sure no one was watching, then opened her toolbox.People in the audience started getting to their feet.Iris backed away in a panic, crashing into the podium."No, it wasn't me," she blurted out.But her own voice echoed from the big screen. "Lydia, aren't you supposed to be the queen of the corners? Let's see how you survive a turn with no brakes."Patrick stood there, frozen.Henry's cane struck the floor with a heavy thud.The reporters' cameras all whipped around, zeroing in on Iris.Noah shouted from the control panel, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Anyone who tries to kill the stream, I'll leak the backup everywhere online."Iris lunged at him. "Shut it off now!"The bodyguards blocked her way.I looked straight at Patrick. "So, are you still going to ask me to forgive her?" I asked.His face went ghostly pale, his lips moving but no words coming out."Lydia, I didn't know," he finally managed to say.I shot back, "Is it that you didn't know, or you just didn't wanna know?"The footage on the big screen kept rolling.Iris finished tampering with the brakes and stuffed her tools back into her bag.She took a couple of steps, then turned around and kicked my tire."The championship was always meant to be mine," she muttered.The fans in the audience started calling out angrily."That's vicious!""She's the one who ruined Lydia's legs!""Patrick was making Lydia take the fall for this?"Iris covered her ears, crying out, "It wasn't me! It's fake! She doctored the footage!"Noah's voice was icy. "I've got the original memory card right here. We can run a forensic check on the timestamp, audio, and video. Iris, do you have the guts to verify it right now?"Iris turned to Patrick, her eyes desperate. "Patrick, please, you trust me, don't you? Say something!"Patrick didn't even look at her.He slowly walked up to me, his voice hoarse. "Lydia, I'm sorry."I lowered the microphone and said, "Don't rush to apologize."He froze.I looked out at all the cameras in the audience."There's a second thing I need to say today," I said.Henry stood up. "Lydia, that's enough," he said.I smiled. "Mr. Henry Collier, when you made me sign those divorce papers, you never taught me when to stop."The audience erupted again.Patrick whipped his head around to Henry. "Divorce papers?"I pulled a copy out of the side pocket of my wheelchair.I said, "Patrick, congratulations. From the day I signed, you were free."Patrick snatched the copy from me.He flipped through the pages, front to back.My signature, the date, and the Collier family lawyer's seal were right there on the page. Everything was real.

Chapter 8