A few days later, her coach pulled me aside at the rink.
He was a careful man, not dramatic, which made what he said land even harder.
“Lily looks run down,” he said. “I know she’s been training hard, but I’m concerned. She’s getting dizzy between runs. Her recovery is slower. She seems weak.”
I looked through the glass toward the ice. Lily was standing by the boards, tugging at her sleeves, face pale under the bright rink lights.
“Has she been sick?” he asked.
I thought about her complaining about feeling dizzy. “I… don’t know.”
“Lily looks run down.”
That night, I told Mike we were taking her to the doctor.
He shut it down instantly.
“Let’s not turn this into a whole thing,” he said. “She’s under pressure. This is the biggest competition season of her career.”
“So we help her.”
“We are helping her.”
The way he said it made me stop. “What does that mean?”
“This is the biggest competition season of her career.”
He shrugged. “It means we support her goals.”
I felt cold all over. “What are you not telling me?”
