Ethan looked at Cole on the ground.
Then he looked at Victor.
Victor didn't say anything. He just waited.
And Ethan walked over, knelt down, and asked Cole if he was okay.
The whole gym went quiet.
Cole looked up at him, confused. Like nobody had ever asked him that before.
"My knee," he said. "I think I twisted it."
Ethan turned to the referee. "He needs a medic."
The medic came. Cole couldn't continue. The match was called.
By the rules, Ethan won by default.
But Ethan shook his head. He walked to the scoring table and said something to the officials. Daniel watched the judges look at each other, then at Victor.
Victor nodded.
Later, Daniel learned what Ethan had said.
"I don't want to win because he got hurt. I want to win because I was better. And today, I don't know if I was. Give it to him. Or give it to nobody. But don't give it to me like this."
The officials, uncertain, recorded it as a tie. Two silver medals. No gold.
Grant Mercer stormed out of the gym, furious.
But Cole limped over on crutches before he left. He held out his hand to Ethan.
"That was cool," he mumbled. "What you did."
Ethan shook it.
In the stands, parents were clapping. Not the polite clapping of a tournament. Real clapping. The kind that comes from somewhere deeper.
Daniel looked down at the floor and saw Victor standing at the edge of the mat.
He wasn't clapping.