the sink and the envelope

The sink.

That's the part I keep coming back to. Not the ankle — the ankle held, we ran ten pull-counters in round four and I didn't feel it twist again. The sink. Someone had a camera on me at the tap and now Voss's team is shopping it like a verdict. Tom texted direct. I stood at the ropes and breathed because that's all there was to do.

I've never met Voss. He has a photograph of me washing my face and he's trying to make it mean something. This is what the game is now. This is what I signed up for when I came back from the pool and put the gloves on again.

Carly didn't speak on the drive in. Three nights at a Collingwood Airbnb and not one word. I didn't push. I taped in the corner and she sat behind me and that was the whole morning. Tonight I sent her a short text and she sent back a single tick. I'm not going to read into the tick. I told her if she sees anyone she tells me first. Came out harder than I meant. I think I meant it exactly that hard.

I locked the gym for four days. No parents, no phones in the building, closed pads. Danny looked at me like I was being dramatic. Tom said it was smart. What I know is I cannot have a second photo. I cannot have a parent see me wince and write a thread titled with my name in it. I cannot have Carly walk into a room where someone's showing her face on a screen.