Chapter 4 She Knows
MAYA POV
Evelyn dragged me out of the apartment at eleven in the morning like I was a hostage who had committed the crime of thinking too hard.
“You have been staring at telemetry and Nico Laurent’s face for three days straight,” she said, pushing me toward the café table. “If I leave you alone any longer you’re going to start naming your plants after corner entries. Sit. Order something with sugar in it.”
I dropped into the chair and immediately started talking. “Do you know what that man said to me yesterday? He looked at my data like it personally insulted his bloodline and told me I overdrive. Overdrive? As if attacking a corner is some moral failure.”
Evelyn didn’t even look up from the menu. “You do overdrive.”
“Traitor.”
“I’m your engineer. It’s literally in the job description.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. That includes telling you when you’re about to cook the tires for no reason.” She finally glanced at me. “You’re spinning. I can hear it from here.”
I tore a piece of bread like it had wronged me. “He’s unbearable. He stands there with that quiet little face of his, and says things like ‘again’ and ‘you’re still late on the brakes’ as if he’s not the most irritating human currently employed in motorsport.”
Evelyn smiled into her coffee. “You talk about him a lot for someone who claims to hate him.”
“I do hate him.”
“Mhm.”
“I would rather reverse into a wall at speed than date him.”
“That’s specific.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
She laughed, and for a few minutes we slipped into normal things. She complained about a dress she almost bought that made her look like a corporate widow. I told her about the ridiculous protein pancakes the team nutritionist kept trying to force on me. We argued over whether the new junior driver was talented or just loud. It felt good. Ordinary like the version of us that existed before everything got complicated.
Then I said it the way I had been rehearsing in my head all morning, casual, almost throwaway.
“Nico said something weird yesterday.”
Evelyn looked up. “Nico says a lot of weird things. It’s part of his charm. And you know that.”
“Well, I don't know. He said you knew something about the accident.”
She choked on her water so hard the couple at the next table turned around. She grabbed her napkin, coughing, eyes watering.
I leaned forward. “You okay?”
“What?” she managed, still coughing.
“You nearly died over a piece of ice. Are you dying?”
“I’m fine.” She wiped her mouth and reached for her glass again. “Went down the wrong way.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He said you knew something. Exact words. "Ask Evelyn."
Evelyn set the glass down carefully. “How am I supposed to know anything? I wasn’t even working with his team then. I was on ours. Completely different radio, different data.”
I watched her for a second, then I let it go. Nico might just be messing with me. Who knows?
“I know, right?” I said, forcing a laugh. “Nico’s finally lost it. Two years of being a champion and now he’s inventing conspiracy theories in his spare time.”
Evelyn’s smile came a second too late, but it came. “Finally? You think he only just lost it?”
“Have you met him? The man communicates in single syllables and judgmental silence. I’m shocked he hasn’t started a podcast about the moral superiority of lifting early.”
She laughed properly this time, and the moment passed. We finished eating. She made me try on a jacket I didn’t need. I bought a stupid keychain shaped like a tiny steering wheel just to annoy her. She told me I was wasting money. I told her she's just too boring. It felt like us again.
By the time we got back to the track the light had changed and the garage smelled like hot rubber. Nico was already waiting beside the simulator with that same unreadable expression.
“You’re late,” he said.
"I have a life outside of being a racer,” I answered. “You should try it sometime. Leave the building and interact with sunlight.”
He ignored that. “We’re doing Turn Six. The real one. Not the simulator version.”
I stared at him. “You want me to run the corner where I nearly died.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a death wish?”
“Possibly.” He handed me the helmet. “Again.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he was cruel and reckless. Instead I put the helmet on and climbed in, because the alternative was admitting I was still afraid of a piece of tarmac.
The first time through I felt it immediately. The shape of the barrier. The exact angle where the world had gone sideways two years ago. My hands tightened on the wheel until the gloves creaked. The rear stepped out for a heartbeat and every muscle in my body braced for impact that never came. I corrected it. Keep the throttle. Forced the car through.
I finished the lap. When I climbed out the garage felt too bright. My legs didn’t feel like they belonged to me. I took one step toward the engineers. Then another. My right knee simply folded.
The ground came up fast. I caught myself on my hands, palms stinging against the concrete, breath gone.
Nico was there in seconds, but he didn’t grab me. He crouched a careful distance away, voice low.
“Maya”
“Don’t touch me.”
“Okay... I'm not touching you.”
I pressed my palms harder into the floor, trying to make the shaking stop.
We stayed like that for a few seconds. Me on the ground. Him not moving closer. The rest of the garage pretended they weren’t watching.
Eventually I got my legs under me again. He stood when I stood, still not reaching out.
“You finished the corner,” he said.
That was all. I nodded once, because if I opened my mouth I was afraid something messy would come out.
I went looking for Evelyn later to tell her I had survived the world’s most sadistic training exercise. She was at her workstation, back half-turned, an old file open on the secondary screen. I recognized the date before I even got close. The race. The crash.
Immediately she heard my footsteps, she closed it. “What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just old setup notes. I was checking something for the next test.”
“That looked like a very suspicious version of nothing.”
She laughed and spun her chair toward me. “You’re getting paranoid. Nico’s conspiracy theories are contagious.”
I let it go. Because it was Evelyn. She had held my hand in the hospital and lied to my face only about whether the hospital coffee was drinkable. Because some part of me still needed one person who hadn’t been involved.
“I’m heading out,” I said. “Try not to work yourself into an early grave.”
“No promises.”
I left. Halfway down the corridor I realized I’d forgotten my phone on the edge of her desk. I turned back, already annoyed at myself, and pushed the door open again without knocking.
Evelyn’s hand moved fast. The screen went black an instant before I could see what was on it. She spun the chair toward me with a smile that looked a little too ready.
“Forget something?”
“My phone.” I grabbed it. “You’re jumpy tonight. What's wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a long day. Too much caffeine.” She stood and stretched, blocking the monitor with her body like it was nothing. “Go home, Mara. Because tomorrow’s going to be worse.”
I almost asked what she’d been looking at. The question sat on my tongue for a second, then I
swallowed it. It was Evelyn. She had no reason to hide anything from me. Right?
“Good night,” I said.
“Night.”
I walked out for real this time. The door clicked shut behind me. I told myself the strange feeling in my chest was just the leftover adrenaline from the corner and the fall. Nothing more.
But the image of her hand moving that fast stayed with me all the way to the car.
