After a moment’s hesitation, Cole removed the glove. Mr. Hodges gasped. The others stood frozen. The fingers were still gone, but the wounds had healed completely, clear of even the faintest scar.

Curtis slipped on his bifocals and went in for a closer look.

“But that’s … that’s impossible!” exclaimed Mr. Hodges.

“Cole, would you mind telling me how in the Sam Hill you got healed up so quick?” Curtis said.

Cole knew that a truthful answer would almost certainly get him sent to the hospital—probably into a room with padded walls. He had hoped that his demeanor alone would be enough to convince the coach that he was okay to play, without his actually having to remove the glove. Now that the hand had been revealed, he wasn’t sure how to answer the question.

“Cole?” Curtis pressed. “I’d like an answer.”

“He soldered it!” Savannah blurted. “Isn’t that right, Cole?”

Cole met her gaze. “Yeah. Miraculous as it may seem … and stupid a stunt as it was, I put a soldering iron to it.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just a quick healer.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Mr. Hodges.

“I smell bullshit,” Curtis said. “But never in my life have I doubted my own eyes. And you sure look healed up to me.”

Cole turned to the coach. “So it’s okay, then? Right, Coach?”

Hickham’s expression remained like stone. “I’ll be expecting you on the bus at six sharp, Cole.”

Cole nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“In street clothes.” Hickham turned and went back behind the desk.

Cole was sure he’d heard wrong. “Say that again, Coach?”

“Logan, I admire your determination. And again, I’m sorry about what happened to you. But I think you’ll best serve this team from the sideline tonight.”

Mr. Hodges cleared his throat. “Now, Jimmy, I’m not sure you’re seeing this—”

Cole took the principal by the collar and yanked him out of the way. He leaned across Hickham’s desk. “I bust my ass for you all season, take this team farther than they’ve ever gone before, and you hang me out to dry?”

“That’s the way it is, Cole. My decision is final.”

“Your decision is fucked!”

Hickham came out of the chair.

“All right, Cole,” said the sheriff, “just take it easy now.”

“Fuck easy.”

Savannah took hold of his arm, but he shrugged free of her grasp.

“Cole, because I know how upsetting today has been for you, I’m going to excuse your outburst,” Hickham said coolly. “But I am ordering you to leave this office immediately. Go simmer down. And I expect to see you on that bus at six. Your team needs you.”

“Is that right? Did it ever occur to you that I might need this team?”

“Cole, I understand where you’re coming from—”