The locker room was a graveyard after the loss. Cleats thudded against the floor, water bottles clattered against the benches, but no one spoke. They didn't have to. The scoreboard still hung heavy over their heads.
Maya pulled off her jersey with trembling fingers, staring down at the fabric like it had betrayed her too. Across the room, Ethan sat stone-faced, staring at the wall like she didn't exist.
She changed quickly in her usual bathroom stall, binding still in place, hoodie pulled on before anyone could see. When she emerged, half the team was already gone.
Tank caught her eye as she grabbed her bag. "That wasn't on you."
Yes, it was. All of it.
"Thanks," she said quietly.
But Tank's reassurance didn't stop the others from staring. Didn't stop the questions forming in their eyes.
By the next morning, the silence had changed shape.
