Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
“Presentation is power, Hadley,” he liked to say in his measured tone.
My mother was his perfect counterpart. She was polished, composed, and always three steps ahead in how something would look from the outside. She chose my clothes, corrected my posture with a gentle hand on my back, and reminded me with disappointed sighs when my laugh got too loud or my opinions strayed too far from the script.
They loved me in their way. I knew that.
But their love came with expectations. Be graceful and agreeable—the daughter who reflected well on them. I was never supposed to be too loud or do anything that might crack the flawless family portrait they’d spent years painting.
I had spent my whole life learning how to move inside those walls without rattling them. Smile when expected. Speak when spoken to. Keep the thoughts about how it would feel to shout rather than whisper tucked safely away, where no one could see them.
I wasn’t unhappy, exactly. But I was starting to feel contained in a way I wanted to break free from. Meeting Jana a few months ago had only intensified that feeling.
I’d attended a race with my parents at Redline Speedway, but it had been nothing like this. One of my dad’s biggest donors owned a team racing, so we’d been there to strengthen that relationship since he was up for reelection.
I was expected to be a quiet, smiling accessory beside my parents, but then I caught a glimpse of Jana laughing with her crew. Her head had been thrown back, and I couldn’t look away. She looked free in a way I had only ever dreamed about.
While my parents were deep in conversation with the donor, I had slipped away with a whispered excuse to my mom about going to the restroom. As I melted into the crowd, my heart had pounded with the fear of being caught.
I found Jana near the fence line, wiping grease from her hands with a rag. My voice had been breathless when I got up the nerve to blurt, “I loved watching you drive earlier. It looked like you were flying when you took that last turn.”
“Thanks. Most people in the fancy seats only notice the paint jobs and the champagne.” She’d looked me up and down, but her grin was kind. “You don’t look like you belong here with the grease monkeys.”
I’d laughed, surprised at how easily the sound came. “I don’t, but I wanted to be. Just for a minute.”
We’d talked for almost twenty minutes that day. She hadn’t asked who my father was. Didn’t care about my last name or the circles I moved in. For the first time in my life, someone saw Hadley instead of my parents’ daughter.
That conversation had been the beginning of something I hadn’t known I was starving for—a friendship that wasn’t curated or shaped by expectations. A few nervous texts turned into late-night messages about races, then the invitation for tonight.
The memory faded as another sharp rev from the lineup yanked me back to the present. Jana’s car sat poised at the starting line now, and my fingers tightened on the concrete barrier.
Standing in the pit of an underground race felt like the biggest rebellion I had ever allowed myself. My parents would be horrified if they knew. They expected me to spend my evenings at charity galas. I was being groomed to marry well and look good on someone’s arm. But I was tired of thinking only in the ways they allowed.
The engines gave another collective growl, louder this time, and I leaned forward without realizing it, the vibration traveling up my arms. My pulse matched the rhythm. This was what I had been missing—the unpredictable part of me that had always whispered beneath the perfect manners and careful smiles.
There were shouts and whistles as the other drivers took their marks. Nitro shouted, urging Jana on. “Bring home the win!”
The race started, and the cars lurched forward. I joined in the cheering, hoping I'd get to see Jana cross the finish line first again. But there was a shriek of metal as they turned the far corner, and something slammed into the side of my head, right above my temple.
Pain flared, just enough to knock the breath out of me. I stumbled sideways, the world tilting as the roar of the engines suddenly muffled like I’d been shoved underwater.
My hand flew up on instinct, my fingers pressing against the spot that throbbed. When I pulled them away, they were slick. It took me a moment to realize it was blood. My vision swam, the floodlights blurring at the edges. I blinked hard, trying to steady myself, but the ground felt unsteady beneath my sneakers, and the noise of the crowd seemed to come from farther away than it should.