Lila's POV
The flag dropped, and both bikes tore off the line so fast the dust cloud swallowed them whole for a second.
Dad had it. I knew it instantly, the way only a kid who'd grown up watching her father ride could know. He hit that first curve clean, tight, shaving off just enough speed to keep control without losing an inch of ground, and by the halfway mark he had a solid two, three bike-lengths on Mom. Sarah was practically screaming beside me, jumping up and down, and I was already gloating, already composing exactly how I was gonna rub this in her face for the rest of the school year.
Then something weird happened.
Dad eased off. Just slightly; a hair, barely noticeable unless you'd watched him ride your whole life the way I had. He let his throttle drop a fraction on the back
