This time, though, they waited a long while.
A notification suddenly popped up on my phone—Margot's personal account, of all things.
I'd never once looked at it.
But this time, for some reason, I tapped in as if pulled by some invisible hand.
My hands started shaking, and I couldn't stop them.
So that was it. Every time Rufus had stood me up for meeting my parents, it had never been because of team business.
The time he said he had to meet a sponsor, he was out shopping for clothes with Margot.
The time he said there was an emergency meeting, he was taking Margot to Disney to unwind.
The day he said something had gone wrong with the training data—
In the photo, he was seated at Margot's family dinner table, eating with her parents.
Margot leaned against him, smiling sweetly, and the comments were all teasing: "Future son-in-law," "When's the wedding?"
And Rufus had never said a word to set anyone straight. He'd even gone through and liked Margot's posts, one by one.
My breath tightened, bit by bit, until I scrolled to the most recent post.
It was a close-up of a racing bike.
I recognized it in a heartbeat. It was my car.
Margot's caption read:
【He said he wanted to give me a special gift for my zodiac year.】
【Starting today, this team's crown jewel, "Promise," is officially renamed "Little Margot."】
I stared at that photo, unblinking.
In it, the "Promise" that Rufus had once carved into the bike with his own hands had been ground clean off.
In its place was a brand-new little-bell design.
I finally understood. Handing my car to Margot wasn't a last-minute decision, and neither was making me run interference for her.
He'd planned all of this long ago.
I lifted my head, held the phone out in front of Rufus, and asked, my voice tight:
"How do you explain this?"
Rufus glanced at the screen without so much as raising his eyelids and said flatly:
"It's just an activity after the rookie's qualifying race. Christine, throw a tantrum if you want, but don't go spreading filthy rumors about a young girl."
I kept my eyes on him and pressed:
"And the car? Why was my name ground off?"
Rufus finally looked up at me.
There wasn't a flicker of guilt on his face. If anything, he was calm, almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Christine, you're thirty already. Other teams would've cut you long ago. I'm the one who kept protecting you, the only reason you've held onto your starting seat."
My whole body went rigid.
But Rufus seemed completely oblivious to the look on my face.
"You're getting married next year. Sooner or later you'll be going back to family life. This car was always meant to go to a newcomer. The race is the perfect chance to make Margot a name for herself. What's the problem with that?"
"Christine, be reasonable. Don't make a scene and embarrass everyone."
All at once, I went completely calm.
I looked at him and gave a small nod.
"Understood."
With that, I pushed my car toward the track.
Rufus visibly relaxed, certain I'd finally caved.
But what he didn't know was this:
A moment ago, when Jim James had messaged to ask if I'd made up my mind, I'd already sent back a single word.
"Fine."
When I rolled my bike out onto the starting grid, the entire arena erupted in an instant.
Countless spectators shot to their feet.
"What's going on?! Why isn't Christine in the starting lineup?!"
"Isn't that her championship car?! How does some rookie get to ride it?!"
"They put the five-time champion on a reject bike and a rookie on the championship car—has the team lost its mind?!"
Some even shouted toward the team in fury:
"Give Christine her car back!"
But no one paid them any attention.
The starting gun cracked, and every car launched forward at once.
The roar of the engines swept across the entire arena in a heartbeat.
