Chapter 133 Chapter 133

Chapter 133 Chapter 133
He was still on the bench looking at the ice.

I said: Declan.

He turned.

I said: ask Dom about the Phoenix story.

He said: Dom doesn't know the details.

I said: he knows enough.

He said: please don't ask Dom.

I said: I'm going to ask Dom.

He said: Dom will make it into a whole narrative.

I said: Dom is a storyteller.

He said: Dom is a disaster.

I said: Dom is efficient.

He said: Dom is.

I said: what.

He said: going to be in the group chat.

I said: Dom has been in the group chat since January.

He said: when did that happen.

I said: Sofía added him.

He said: of course she did.

I said: he's been very useful.

He said: about what.

I said: he knows things.

He said: what things.

I said: you-data adjacent things.

He said: Zara.

I said: yes.

He said: what has Dom told the group chat.

I said: some things.

He said: which things specifically.

I said: the things that were helpful to document.

He said: I need to know which things.

I said: I'll send you a summary.

He said: a summary.

I said: bullet points.

He said: bullet points of Dom's contributions to the group chat about me.

I said: you-data adjacent. I said that.

He said: how many bullet points.

I said: manageable number.

He said: how many.

I said: seven.

He said: seven bullet points.

I said: some of them have sub-points.

He said: some of them have sub-points.

I said: Dom is thorough.

He said: Dom is going to have a conversation with me.

I said: Dom is lovely.

He said: Dom has been reporting on me to a group chat since January.

I said: we're a thorough group.

He said: I have been thoroughly documented.

I said: the you-data file is comprehensive.

He said: I'm not sure how I feel about this.

I said: you should feel seen.

He said: I feel monitored.

I said: both things.

He said: yes. Both things.

He put his head in his hands briefly.

I said: the Phoenix report.

He said: you're going to find the report.

I said: James is going to find the report.

He said: there's no report.

I said: there's a form.

He said: a small form.

I said: James found thirty-three years of international network documentation.

He said: a wildlife incident form in Phoenix is.

I said: a primary source.

He said: it's about a goose.

I said: it's about you.

He said: I don't want it.

I said: it's yours anyway.

He said: I know.

He said it the way I'd said things about the ice all semester.

With the specific understanding of someone who had accepted that some things belonged to you whether you'd chosen them or not.

The goose incident form from Phoenix. The far end of every rink. The seven AM coffees. The forty-seven cheek kisses. The counting from one. The you-data file with Dom's seven bullet points and sub-points. The other story.

Just this. Ordinary extraordinary.

All of it.

Mine.

His.

Ours.

Before any of it.

Still.

I went out the door.

I was halfway down the corridor when my phone buzzed.

I looked at it.

Lily.

Six fifty-nine AM.

The message said: I heard about the goose conversation. I have the photographs ready. Also I've sent the Phoenix wildlife incident form to James. Also good morning.

I stopped walking.
I looked at the message.

I typed back: how did you hear about the goose conversation.

She said: the rink has security cameras.

I said: you accessed the security camera footage.

She said: I have the login from when I researched the venue atmospheric conditions.

I said: you kept the login.

She said: I keep everything. I'm thorough.

I said: Lily.

She said: yes.

I said: the photographs.

She said: ready when you are.

I said: send them.
She sent them.

Four photographs.

A parking lot.

A very large goose.

Declan at various stages of what could only be described as strategic retreat.

The final photograph was him at the far end of the parking lot with the goose standing in the middle ground looking directly at the camera with the specific expression of an animal that has made its point.

I stood in the corridor and looked at the four photographs.

I started laughing. The real kind. The kind that didn't stop immediately.
The brief unguarded kind that just kept going because it was genuine and there was nothing to manage about it.

I was still laughing when my phone buzzed again.

Not Lily. Not the group chat. Not Declan, who was presumably still on the bench in the rink coming to terms with the documentation of his situation.

A number I recognised.

Priya Nair.
The message said: Before First has been accepted. The magazine wants it for their spring issue. Publication in six weeks. They're calling it the companion to Sharp Edges. Also they want to know if you're working on anything else.

I read it.

Six weeks.

Before First in print.