The silence in the gym was deafening.
Leo stood at center court, his whistle around his neck, his knee aching, his heart heavy. The lights buzzed. The nets hung still. The banners watched from the rafters. But the gym was empty. No players. No parents. No noise. Just Leo and the ghost of everything he'd built.
Javier was gone. Crestmont. The next chapter. The dream he'd been chasing since he was a kid. Leo was proud of him. He was also devastated.
He walked to the service line and picked up a ball. He tossed it. He served. The ball hit the back wall. He retrieved it. He served again.
The rhythm was familiar. The motion was automatic. But the feeling was gone. Without Javier, without Mateo, without the team, the gym was just a room. A big, empty, echoing room.
His phone buzzed. A text
