Page 105 of Try Line Hearts
Kaine waited. Counted. Then nodded once, something in him settling.
“Right,” he said quietly. “Thank you for an enlightening talk, captain.”
The title cut deeper than anything else.
Kaine stood, water sheeting from him, towel wrapped briskly at his waist. He didn’t look back.
“I’ll see you at warm-up.”
The door clicked shut.
Byrne stayed submerged long after the cold stopped biting.
By the time he left the facility, darkness had fallen. The car park lights cast pale cones across wet asphalt. His breath fogged.
Ireland were confirmed.
The World Cup was confirmed.
Dublin was confirmed.
Global eyes, home soil, nowhere to hide.
A text lit up his phone.
Evelyn Cross:Can you meet me outside for a moment? By the car park entrance.
Byrne stopped dead.
His first thought was panic—pure reflex, like his body recognized danger before his brain could name it. Cameras. Headlines. Declan.Another “thread.” Another leash. And lately, everything felt louder, higher-stakes, like the whole country had leaned in closer and decided his life was communal property.
Then the second thought, sharper:Why is she texting me directly?
He almost ignored it but didn’t and then texted back:Where exactly?
The reply came immediately:I’m here now. Blue car. You’ll see me.
Byrne’s stomach flipped with the familiar dread of being seen.
He walked anyway.
The far end of the car park was quieter, partially shielded by a row of trees and the back wall of the building. A single blue sedan sat idling near the curb, discreet in the way expensive things often were. The driver sat behind the wheel, eyes forward, posture rigid with the practiced blankness of someone paid not to exist.
Evelyn stood outside the passenger door.
She was dressed nicely, but not over the top—dark trousers, a simple coat, scarf tucked close at her throat. Hair down, glossy and effortless, the kind of effortless that was probably a skill. Even here, under harsh car park lighting, she looked… composed. Like a person who knew how to be visible without being consumed.
Byrne approached slowly, heart punching at his ribs.
“Evelyn,” he said.
“Hi,” she replied, gentle. She didn’t smile like this was fun. She didn’t perform it.
Byrne hovered at an awkward distance. “Is everything—”
“I know,” she said.
Byrne stopped breathing.
