Cameron glanced toward the bleachers.
Nia followed.
Near the upper rows stood Devin Reynolds.
Cameron’s father.
Nia’s ex-husband.
He was not watching the game.
He was watching them.
Something inside Nia went cold.
Devin began walking down the bleacher steps.
Nia looked back at Cameron.
“Does your father know?”
Cameron closed his eyes.
That was the answer.
Nia stood.
“No.”
Marcus rose too.
“Nia.”
“No.”
Her voice remained quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
“Does Devin know?”
Cameron whispered:
“Yes.”
For the second time in less than two minutes, Nia discovered she had been living inside a story everyone else knew more about.
Devin reached them.
He was forty-two, broad-shouldered, with the easy athletic posture of someone who still trained as though a scout might be watching. He had played Division II basketball for two years before a serious ankle injury and academic problems ended his college career.
He still spoke about basketball in present tense.
Not his basketball.
Basketball itself.
The game.
The system.
Development.
Reps.
Opportunity.
Nia once loved how much he cared.
Later she learned care could become pressure without changing vocabulary.
“What happened?”
Devin asked.
Nia stared.
“You know.”
His expression changed.
“Know what?”
“Cameron’s knee.”
Devin looked toward their son.
Then Marcus.
“Nia.”
“How long?”
Devin sighed.
“It's been sore.”
“How long?”
“Couple weeks.”
“Three.”
Cameron whispered.
Devin looked annoyed.
“Cam.”
Nia saw.
Not concern.
Annoyance that Cameron had said too much.
Her anger sharpened.
“You knew for three weeks.”
“It was soreness.”
“You are not a doctor.”
“Neither are you in sports medicine.”
Nia laughed once.
“I am an emergency nurse.”
“That doesn't mean every ache is an emergency.”
“Our son just collapsed on a basketball court.”
“He did not collapse.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“He went down.”
Devin looked toward him.
Marcus continued.
“His knee gave way during a cut.”
“That is going to be evaluated.”
Devin’s jaw tightened.
“I was taking him Monday.”
Nia stared.
“Monday?”
“Yes.”
“Today is Saturday.”
“It got worse today.”
“You knew before today.”
“It wasn't like this before today.”
Nia looked at Cameron.
“Were you supposed to tell me?”
Cameron’s eyes filled.
Devin interrupted.
“Do not put him in the middle.”
Nia turned.
“You already did.”
Silence.
That landed.
Devin looked away.
Nia continued.
“Did you tell him not to tell me?”