Imaginary Lines (New York Leopards 3)

“Not every Leopard did.”

“It’s their choice.”

“Well, it’s uninformed and made under pressure.”

I leaned forward to gain her attention again. “You think there’s a reason no one talks about Loft?”

Rachael nodded decisively. “I think Loft’s parent company is powerful, and no one wants to piss them off because then it’ll send ripples through the organization that would take a lot of energy to straighten out.”

“They’re fine.”

She glared at him. “Really? The helmets that aren’t being included in national testing, the weight machines you all use, the pads? It’s an acknowledged truth that their stuff is crappy but cheap, and everyone keeps using it because the League and Loft have a partnership.”

Ryan shook his head. “And what do you want to do? Take on Loft Athletics? And all of Kalendburg, Inc.?”

Her brown-green eyes blazed into mine. She didn’t have to speak.

Ryan shoved his hand through his golden hair. “Leave her out of it.”

“I don’t know if a statement from me is helpful, but I’m happy to give it.”

“Do you have any proof that the Leopards are consciously not reporting on Loft?”

She frowned. “I know the Doctors Coalition left them off because they were pressured by the board. I think I could put you in touch with someone who would vouch for that.”

I held her gaze for a long while, and then I nodded. “I’d like that.”

She exchanged a long gaze with her boyfriend, and he finally nodded and left the room. Tacit agreement? I wasn’t sure.

I took out my laptop and started to take notes.

Forty-five minutes later, my pocket buzzed. I dug my phone out and saw Tanya’s name illuminated across the screen, so I excused myself from the waiting room.

Out in the hall, I leaned against the wall and pressed the cell against my ear. “Hi.”

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m at Beth Israel.”

“Because I want—wait, what?”

I sighed and slid down to the floor. I couldn’t be bothered anymore about the sanitation. “Beth Israel Hospital. My friend’s hurt.” It seemed cheap to mention it was Abe.

But I didn’t need to. “It doesn’t happen to be Krasner, does it?”

In the darkened window across the way, I could see my brows draw together in a frown. “It does.”

“Good, that’s why I’m calling you.”

Unexpected gratitude filled me, that Tanya would bother alerting me to Abe’s health. “Thanks.”

She continued without a pause. “I want you to write an article about concussions.”

I closed my eyes. This was too much to handle right now. Abraham had just been seriously injured, and she wanted me to write a news update? “Tanya, I just—can’t someone else?”

“No.” Her voice was implacable. “It has to be you.”

I didn’t understand. I was at the hospital. Anyone else could write an update on Abe’s injury as well as I could, and honestly, I’d rather be sitting at his side. “Why?”