Chapter 5 The Truth Was Never Meant For Me

I stared at the document in my hands, then at Rhydan, wondering how many more things I would discover about the worst day of my life. Two years ago, I’d believed my injury was an unfortunate accident. Then I’d discovered that someone had warned the medical team about the risks. Now I was holding evidence that the warning had been altered before it became part of the official investigation.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, looking up at him.

Rhydan shoved his hands into the pockets of his training trousers, his expression unusually serious. He glanced toward the emptying track before returning his attention to me.

“I found the original report in the performance office five days before your championship final. I was returning some training records when I noticed your name on the document. The recommendation was clear. You weren’t supposed to compete until further medical assessment had been completed.”

My fingers tightened around the paper. I remembered those final days before the championship, the discomfort in my leg, and the repeated assurances that everything was under control. I’d trusted the people responsible for my health because I thought they had my best interests at heart.

“And you did nothing?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“I took a photograph of the report and asked the medical director about it. He told me another assessment had been completed and that the original recommendation no longer applied. I wanted to believe him, especially because you’d been told you were fit to compete.”

“You wanted to believe him?” I repeated, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of his explanation. “Rhydan, I was the person who had to live with the consequences. You could afford to believe whatever made your life easier.”

He looked down briefly, and for once, he didn’t have a clever response waiting.

“You’re right. I should have told you, and I should have handed over that photograph when the investigation began. Instead, I convinced myself that the medical team knew what they were doing.”

I studied his face, searching for the familiar arrogance that usually made me want to throw something at him. It was still there somewhere, but today it seemed buried beneath something heavier.

“Why didn’t you tell the investigators?”

“Because I was afraid of losing my place in the national programme. My sponsorship was tied to my performance, and I knew that questioning the medical department could create problems for everyone involved. I was twenty-five, Zennika. I thought protecting my career was more important than getting involved in something I didn’t fully understand.”

His honesty didn’t make me feel better. If anything, it made the betrayal more painful because he wasn’t offering some elaborate excuse or pretending he’d been completely innocent.

“So you protected your career while mine was falling apart.”

“I did.”

The simplicity of his answer caught me off guard. I had expected another explanation, perhaps an attempt to make himself look less responsible, but he didn’t offer one.

I looked away, trying to steady my breathing. There had been nights when I’d replayed that championship final in my head, wondering whether I’d missed something, whether I’d trained too hard, or whether I’d been foolish enough to ignore my own body. All that time, Rhydan had been carrying a piece of information that might have changed everything.

“Why are you telling me now?”

“Because I saw what happened after your comeback race, and I realised you were still carrying the blame for something you didn’t understand. When I found out you were joining Northbridge, I knew I couldn’t keep pretending the past had nothing to do with me.”

“How noble of you.”

“Zen, I’m not asking you to appreciate what I’m doing. I’m trying to correct something I should have corrected years ago.”

“Then don’t expect a thank-you.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

I hated that his response almost made me smile. Almost.

He took the document back briefly and pointed toward the bottom section, where the report carried a reference number and several administrative details.

“Look at the dates. This version was issued five days before the championship. The copy submitted during the investigation was dated three days before it. Both documents have the same reference number, but the recommendation isn’t the same.”

I placed the papers side by side, carefully examining the wording. The original document stated that I was not medically cleared to compete until further imaging had been completed. The later version described my condition as manageable, recommending modified training and monitoring before competition.

My stomach tightened as I reached the final section.

There was a small box marked Athlete Notification Status.

On the original document, the box beside Pending had been checked.

On the later version, the box beside Athlete Informed was marked as completed.

Beneath it were my initials.

ZM.

I stopped breathing for a moment.

“What the hell is this?”

Rhydan leaned closer, following my gaze.

“I didn’t notice that when I first compared the documents.”

“These are my initials.”

“I can see that.”

“I never received this warning, Rhydan. Nobody showed me anything, and I certainly never signed an acknowledgement saying I’d been informed.”

My voice had become louder than I intended, attracting the attention of two athletes walking past. I immediately lowered the papers, feeling sick. Someone hadn’t simply changed the recommendation. Someone had made it appear that I knew about the risks and had agreed to compete anyway.

That was exactly what the original investigation had accused me of doing.

“Did you give this version to the investigators?” I asked.

“No. I submitted the photograph of the original warning to Helena this morning. I wanted the Integrity Office to have something they could independently verify.”

I looked at him again, trying to decide whether I believed anything coming out of his mouth.

“Then why are you showing me this?”

“Because you deserve to know what I know. And because I don’t want you hearing another version of your own story from people who were involved.”

I folded the documents carefully, placing them inside my training folder. I wasn’t ready to forgive him, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to understand him anymore. But I couldn’t deny that the evidence in my hands had changed everything.

“I have an appointment with Helena tomorrow morning. I’ll give her both copies and let the investigators determine what happened.”

“That’s probably the right decision.”

“Don’t start acting like we’re suddenly on the same side.”

He gave a small nod, accepting the warning without argument.

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

“One more thing, Zennika. There’s something you should know about Orren.”

I closed my eyes briefly. Apparently, the universe had decided that one emotional disaster wasn’t enough for a Monday.

“What now?”

“Before I submitted the original report, I contacted him. I wanted to know whether he’d seen the earlier version. He told me he had never received it.”

I slowly turned around.

“You’re saying he lied?”

“I’m saying I don’t know. But when I showed him the document, he looked genuinely shocked.”

That was almost worse. If Orren hadn’t received the original warning, who had changed it before the official version reached him? And why had his name appeared among the recipients on the later document?

I was about to ask another question when my phone vibrated inside my bag. Helena Ward had sent an email confirming our appointment and requesting that I bring every available copy of the medical records.

I was just putting my phone away when another notification appeared.

It was from Tessira.

Please tell me you’re not planning to spend the entire afternoon arguing with Rhydan. I have a better idea. Dinner, food, and absolutely no conversations about men who look like they were designed to ruin women’s lives.

Despite everything, I laughed.

For the first time that day, I felt like doing something normal. I needed food, a shower, and at least twelve hours without hearing the words medical investigation.

“What’s funny?” Rhydan asked, glancing at my phone.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Still keeping secrets from me?”

“Consider it professional development. You should try it sometime.”

He shook his head, and I walked away before he could find another opportunity to irritate me.

I was almost at the exit when Orren appeared in the corridor. He looked directly at me, then at the folder tucked beneath my arm. His expression changed so quickly that I nearly stopped walking.

“Zennika, I need you to come to my office. There’s something about that medical report we need to discuss.”

I tightened my grip on the folder.

“That’s interesting, Coach. I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

He glanced over my shoulder, and his eyes briefly settled on Rhydan, who was still standing near the track.

Then Orren lowered his voice.

“Whatever Rhydan has shown you, don’t make any decisions until you’ve heard the full story.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to explain.

But instead of answering my question, he opened his office door and stepped aside.

And as I walked past him, he said something that made my blood run cold.

“The person who changed that report wasn’t trying to protect the medical team, Zennika. They were trying to protect you.”