MERRIELYNN.
I stepped out of the locker room and my mind was a mess of emotions.
Everything suddenly felt too loud—the cheers, the clapping, the stomp of feet against the metal bleachers.
I barely registered the buzz of the crowd or the chill of the evening air against my skin. My eyes roamed around as I searched for a familiar face.
There she was—Emorie, right by the sidelines, her camera strap slung over one shoulder. She caught sight of me and waved me over.
“How do you feel?” she asked when I came to stand next to her.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd, toward a quieter corner near the edge of the bleachers. My heart was pounding, and I knew I needed to get this out before I exploded.
“Emorie, listen,” I started. “It’s about Cormac.”
She tilted her head, ey
