Ryan had no answer for that. Neither did half the people watching. Connor opened the antiseptic packet. His hands trembled. Naomi noticed.
Connor. He looked at her. You don't owe me anything. That made him look worse. His eyes shifted toward Jake's phone, then toward Ryan.
Ryan saw it. Don't. Connor said nothing. Charles stepped closer to his son. Ryan, a warning now.
Not fatherly. Strategic. Connor's face tightened. He looked at Jake. Do you still have everything?
Jake frowned. What? The messages. Ryan moved first. Shut up.
The corridor went silent again. Charles's head turned slowly. What messages? Jake's face went pale. Connor looked at him.
You heard me. Ryan stepped forward. Connor. No. Connor's voice was stronger now. You said this would just scare them.
Nobody moved. Naomi felt Nia go still beside her. Walter looked at Connor. Charles did too. Ryan's expression hardened.
Connor swallowed. Then he looked directly at Jake's phone. "Show them the messages," he said. Jake stared back. Connors voice dropped.
"Or I will." And in that moment, Naomi understood that the national championship reveal had not ended Ryan's story. It had only cracked the door open. What came through next might reach far beyond him. Connor stood beneath the cold fluorescent lights with the antiseptic wipes still open in one hand.
Jake looked at him, then at Ryan, then at Charles Witmore. For a few seconds, nobody moved. The rain beat harder against the loading doors. Charles stepped forward first. What messages?
His voice was calm. Too calm. Connor looked at Ryan. You know. Ryan's jaw tightened.
Don't do this. Connor gave a short, bitter laugh. You already did. Jake lowered his phone completely. Ryan moved toward him.
Give me that. Jake stepped back. No. It was the first time Naomi had heard him refuse Ryan. All week. Ryan stared at him.
What? Jake's face had gone pale. You said we were just going to get them on camera. Connor looked at the gathered crowd. He said if one of them took a swing first, everything after that would be easy.