Page 141 of Ruthless Court

PALO ALTO YOUTH ATHLETICS CENTER

What the hell?

I circle the block.

By the time I come back, the SUV is gone.

Hannah isn’t.

She’s walking toward the building with her backpack over one shoulder.

I park across the street.

This would be the perfect moment to leave.

Instead, I’m out of the car before common sense catches up.

The front door sticks.

I pull harder.

Sneakers squeak somewhere inside.

A whistle cuts through the hallway.

Then a girl’s voice.

Her voice.

“Again.”

I follow it.

The gym doors are open.

And I stop.

Hannah stands at center court surrounded by a dozen boys.

Maybe twelve.

Thirteen.

Black leggings. Old T-shirt. Hair still piled on top of her head.

Whistle around her neck.

Completely in charge.

“If you cross your feet, you’re giving him the lane.”

One kid raises his hand.

“This isn’t school, Tyler.”

He lowers it.

The others laugh.