Elena sat on a folded landing mat.
“Nine years ago, Vale Athletics had a twelve-year-old gymnast named Claire Morgan,” she said.
Tessa’s eyes narrowed. “I remember Claire.”
“She was injured before a major qualifier. Richard wanted her cleared anyway.”
Maya felt her chest tighten.
“I refused to sign the readiness report,” Elena continued. “The next morning, a report appeared with my digital approval.”
“You’re saying my father forged it?” Tessa asked.
“I’m saying I didn’t sign it.”
“What happened to Claire?”
“She competed. She got hurt badly enough that she never returned to elite gymnastics.”
Silence filled the room.
Elena said she had confronted Richard in Denver after the meet. Two days later, Vale Athletics accused her of altering internal reports. She resigned before the dispute became public.
“Why didn’t you fight it?” Maya asked.
“Because I had no proof. And because Richard threatened to drag every athlete I coached into an investigation.”
Tessa shook her head. “My father would never—”
Her voice broke before the sentence finished.
Maya understood that expression. It was the face of someone defending a person because the alternative was too expensive.
Elena turned the laptop toward them.
“If my old account was never deleted, someone could still use it to make anything look like it came from me.”
Tessa paced once across the mat.
“Then why steal my choreography and send it to Maya?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
Maya looked down at her medal.
“What if the point wasn’t the routine?”
Elena looked up.
Maya continued. “What if the point was making it look like you stole it?”
Tessa stopped pacing.
A knock hit the door.
Richard Vale entered without waiting.
He was still wearing the dark suit he had worn beside the judges.
“Tessa. We’re leaving.”
“No.”
His gaze moved to Elena.
“You should have stayed away.”
Elena stood. “I did. For nine years.”
Richard’s expression barely changed.
Maya stepped between them. “Did you use her account?”
Richard looked at the medal around Maya’s neck.
“Be careful, young lady. You’re holding first place because of material that belongs to my daughter.”
Tessa stared at him.
“Dad, how did you know which part of Maya’s routine was mine?”
Richard paused.
Maya felt it immediately.
Tessa had never told him which section Maya performed.
Nobody had.
Richard recovered quickly. “I watched the routine.”
Tessa shook her head.
“You left the arena before Maya went on floor.”
For the first time, Richard Vale had no answer.