given out on you, the last section was a vertical rope draped over water that you needed to hang on, hand over hand, foot over foot, to reach the other side.
Then the final sprint.
She hit the ground and rolled after the final challenge and came up on her feet. Covered in mud and drenched in excitement, Sasha took off.
There were others close by. She was pretty sure Claire and Brigitte were in the mix but wasn’t about to look and find out. Not that she’d recognize anyone with just a glance at this point. With the finish line in view, Sasha pumped her arms harder, moved her legs faster. The second she crossed the line, the electronic scoreboard listed the names and times.
Sasha ran straight through the line, giving her body several yards to slow down.
Her breath came in pants, her chest sucked in every breath with serious effort. If she wasn’t covered in mud, she’d be able to feel the sweat rolling off her, but the dirt kept that from happening. Around her, students were stopping, hands on knees, pats on backs.
She looked up, saw the finishing times.
She was nearly a minute and a half behind her best personal record.
Not bad.
The name that beat her was Claire, by less than a second. She stood in the crowd, accepting the praise of her classmates.
Brigitte came in third.
Times pinged on the board as the last of the kids crossed the line.
Breathing hard, Brigitte walked up to Claire and patted the girl on the back. “You PR’d by twenty seconds.”
She grinned ear to ear. “I’m stoked.”
Brigitte then turned to Sasha. “And I’m a little pissed you beat me.”
The class laughed.
Someone started clapping, a slow, steady noise.
Everyone turned toward the spectator.
A familiar tingle ran down Sasha’s back.
Mr. Pohl stood under an umbrella, a long coat covering what Sasha assumed was a suit. His dress shoes took on a fair share of mud.
“Well done, Miss Budanov.”
Her smile faded. “Thank you.”
“You’ve obviously not lost your touch.”
Brigitte walked past Sasha and stood in front of the man. “Mr. Pohl, how unexpected to see you out here.”
“I thought it was in everyone’s best interest that I stop in from time to time.” The man looked past Brigitte and focused on Claire. “And who is this rising star?”
“A high school senior,” Brigitte told him, not giving him an introduction. “She has a lot to learn.”
Geoff Pohl smiled and returned his focus to Sasha. “I’ll be in touch.”
He walked away.
Claire moved in behind them. “Who was that?”
Brigitte turned around, her smile a little too bright, her eyes too wide. “No one you need to know. Now go hit the gym showers. No need to track this mud into the dorms.” She lifted her voice. “Anyone with cuts, scrapes, or anything else, report to the nurse after you’re clean. Well done, guys.”
The kids slowly peeled away, leaving only Brigitte and Sasha.
“That was more fun than I remembered.”
“You’re a sadist, Sasha,” Brigitte said with a laugh.
Sasha started to walk away.
“Hold up.”
She paused.
“Geoff is here for you, isn’t he?”
“Linette said he might have employment for me. Something to challenge me.”
Brigitte’s lips went in a straight line.
“You don’t approve,” Sasha said after several seconds of silence.
“It isn’t for me to approve or disapprove.” Their eyes finally met. “His challenges come with a stiff price, Sasha. Know exactly what you’re saying yes to before you do.” Without anything else, Brigitte left her standing in the drizzle.
Chapter Eight
AJ spent most of his first day researching the two names Sasha had given him online, Jocey Schuster and Olivia Naught. Both were women who had roomed with his sister at one time or another at Richter. The names rang distant bells in his head. Amelia must have mentioned them at some point, but when she was away in boarding school, he was channeling his best bad boy attitude and not paying a lot of attention to what she said on the rare occasions they saw each other.
It took some time, but he was able to follow Jocey all the way to Arizona, where he found mention of her getting married and acquiring a new last name. Now Jocey Miller, it appeared she was living a typical suburban life complete with at least one kid that put her name on a PTA president list in an upscale school district.
Olivia Naught, on the other hand, wasn’t so easy to find. No Instagram, Facebook, Twitter . . . social media had plenty of matching names, but none that fit the