Sara and I are sharing a hotel room, so at seven thirty in the morning we walk together from our room to Hallie’s, where we pick her up and continue on to the hotel’s fitness center. Sara called ahead and confirmed that the fitness center’s yoga studio would be available for them to use. She has a yoga mat strapped to her back and totes a bag full of supplies: a foam block, a speaker, a bottle of lavender essential oil. Hallie emerges from her hotel room in leggings and a stretchy tank top; she’ll get ready and put on an actual leotard for Trials after yoga and a light breakfast.

“Morning,” I say. “Ready for the big day?”

“Ha, no, but it’s here,” she says honestly.

Sara nudges her down the hall toward the elevator. “Oh-kay, let’s go chill out for an hour and find a more positive attitude.”

The yoga studio is located at the back of the fitness center, through a door along the far wall of the gym. As we walk past a row of treadmills and ellipticals, through a crew of sweaty dudes working out on weight machines, we cross paths with Ryan, who’s bench-pressing weights. He grunts, sets the bar back on the holder, and removes one headphone.

“Hey,” he breathes. “Morning.”

“Morning,” we chime.

“We won’t distract you from your workout,” Sara says.

Sara leads Hallie into the yoga studio and closes the door. I’ve never joined one of their sessions, and I wouldn’t dare interrupt now. It’s good for Hallie to have some solo time with Sara to focus on relaxing for the day ahead.

“So, I, uh, I’m not sure I ever properly thanked you for your text,” I say to Ryan.

He removes his other headphone and sits up, grinning. “Yeah?”

“It’s an absurdly extravagant donation,” I point out. “Just, like, way above and beyond. You know that, right?”

He shrugs. “Eh.”

“I just want to make sure you’re really sure you want to do this,” I say.

“Of course I’m sure,” he says seriously.

I can’t help it—I cover my face with my hands. “Okay!” I say brightly. “I’m gonna take your money and run, I guess, before you change your mind.”

He laughs. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“When I told Jasmine, you know what she said?” I ask.

“What?” he asks.

“That the donation is enough for her to forgive you for almost working with Dimitri,” I say.

His mouth twitches nervously. “Well, that’s good. And… you?”

“It’s one thing to apologize, but it’s another thing to make a situation right again. And you did both,” I explain. “So, yeah, I forgive you.”

“Really?” he asks, almost like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.