Chapter 2

The next morning, I went to the rink to file my paperwork for Sectionals.

In the hallway, I ran into Silas and Lyla.

Lyla was clinging to his arm. The second she saw me, she ducked behind him like a scared kitten.

"Silas, I'm scared."

He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed. "Maeve, don't intimidate her."

I moved to walk around them.

He grabbed my wrist. "What's your attitude? Lyla didn't do anything wrong. She didn't have a choice! Do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?"

I yanked my hand free. "Move."

My voice was sharp. People in the hallway turned to look.

Lyla's tears spilled over. "Maeve, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. If you're still angry, you can hit me. I deserve it."

She stepped toward me, arms open, like she was offering herself up.

Silas yanked her back into his chest, glaring at me. "Look what you've done to her! Maeve, when did you become this cruel?"

Whispers started around us.

"That's the girl from the pro shop, right?"

"I heard she was supposed to get the grant, but Lyla got it instead."

"I mean, look at her face. Cold as ice. Who'd want to help her?"

"Lyla's so sweet. If I were Silas, I'd pick her too."

I ignored them all. Looked only at Silas. "I'll say it one more time. Move."

He didn't. He shoved me instead.

"You're apologizing to Lyla. Right now."

I stumbled back two steps. Hit the wall.

Pain shot through my spine.

I looked up at him.

He looked back. Not a trace of warmth in his eyes.

We grew up together.

He was twelve when his family sent him from Manhattan to this nowhere town. Got into a fight his first day.

I was the one who grabbed a wrench and scared off those older kids.

After that, he followed me everywhere.

He hated the grease on my hands. But whenever someone mocked my hearing, my dead right ear, he'd throw fists until they were on the ground.

He said: "Maeve, I've got you from now on."

"You can't hear out of one ear? Fine. I'll be your other ear."

"When we get out of here, we'll go to New York together."

Now he was shoving me into a wall. For another girl.

Lyla sobbed harder in his arms. "Silas, forget it. Let's just go. It's all my fault."

He rubbed her back, voice going soft. "It's not your fault."

He shot me one last look, pure warning, then walked away with his arm around her.

I stood there for a while.

Then straightened up and kept walking.

On the way to the office, I passed the announcement board.

Lyla's photo was pinned in the center.

Below it, the grant justification read: *Exceptional talent. Financial hardship. Remarkable perseverance.*

I almost laughed.

I remembered what it was like, going back to the pro shop.

My father, reeking of whiskey, hand already out.

"Where's the money?"

I ignored him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head into the wall.

"I'm talking to you! You deaf?"

My right ear heard nothing. My left ear rang from the impact.

"I don't have any."

"Bullshit. That Kensington kid is loaded! You're always hanging around him. What's a little cash? You hiding it from me?"

He slapped me across the face. Started digging through my pockets.

I shoved him off.

He kicked me in the stomach. Hard.

"You ungrateful bitch!"

I curled up on the floor. Felt my organs twist.

He was still screaming.

"Worthless! Just like your dead mother! Trash, both of you!"

He reached for the tire iron.

That's when Silas showed up.

He kicked my father off me. Pulled me up. Checked my injuries.

"Where'd he hit you?"

I shook my head.

He took off his jacket. Draped it over my shoulders.

"Don't be scared. I'm here."

That night, he didn't leave. Slept on the busted couch in the shop.

The next day, he had my father hauled off by the cops.

He said: "Maeve, I'll take care of you from now on."

I believed him.

I really believed he'd be the one person I could count on forever.

Turns out, that kind of thing can just disappear.