Page 87 of The Sound of Us

“What’s this really about?” I leaned back and folded my arms the way Isla did when she was bluffing. “There is no way you’re that desperate to have me back, considering I failed the tryout, I’ve got a wonky leg, and you’ve got hundreds of young aspiring basketball players out there just waiting for their shot.”

A few sideways glances. Shifting in seats. Someone drummed a thumb on the table.

“We understand you’ve been looking into rumors that may involve one of the players on the men’s basketball team,” Michaelsaid. “We’re concerned that you may have been misled or that you may release unsubstantiated information that could damage his reputation or indeed the reputation of the team or even the university. We just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

My offer wasn’t an offer. It was a bribe. They didn’t need my skills. They needed my silence. If I signed the contract, I would be part of the team again and with that came an NDA that would prevent me from speaking up. The lawyers had just taken a gamble that I’d sign on the dotted line and the NDA Dev had given me earlier wouldn’t be necessary. They’d also taken a gamble by throwing an “amazing opportunity” at me to stop me from releasing “unsubstantiated information,” which suggested that the information they believed I had was most likely true. Otherwise, why we were all here? And who was this about? They assumed I already knew.

And I did. I could feel it in my gut.

No wonder Ethan was so desperate to be friends.

“If I accept your offer, what happens to Ethan?” I asked, taking a calculated risk. “Does he just get away with it? No repercussions?” I’d played a lot of poker with Mom and Jonah during my recovery, but no one had taught me more about bluffing than Isla.

“Who said anything about Ethan?” Dev asked.

“I was just talking to him in the gym. He wanted my assurance that we would still be friends.” It was a less-than-subtle attempt to suggest Ethan had tipped his hand, but Michael took the bait.

“Ethan’s a good guy who got in a bad situation and just made some poor choices,” Michael said. “He’s got a bright future ahead of him. He doesn’t deserve to lose a chance at a successful NBA career because of a fifteen-minute mistake two years ago.”

“Michael.” Dev shook his head, attempting to cut Michael off, but it was too late. I had my confirmation.

Fifteen minutes. Two years ago.Something was niggling at the back of my mind and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

“Ethan did the right thing and reported it to us right away,” Michael continued, seemingly oblivious to the consternation of Dev and his legal buddy whose sole function seemed to be writingeverything down on his legal pad. “We had a long talk and he understood that kind of thing could never happen again. He made some promises, and he’s kept them—no drinking, no drugs, no dating, low profile—so I think on that front nothing else needs to be done.”

My brain was putting the pieces together and the picture that was forming was making my heart hurt. I tried to take a deep breath, but my lungs were seizing up and my vision was blurring and my ears were filled with white noise.

“Skye?” Michael’s voice seemed far away. “Are you okay?”

I dug my nails into my leg and the jolt of pain pulled me back into the room. “He raped someone,” I said bluntly. “How could you possibly think nothing else needs to be done?”

“No one said anything about rape,” Dev interjected, trying to shut down the runaway train. “There have been no allegations, no accusations, no charges, no witnesses, no proof…”

Marisa Staples likely had proof. She’d been working for Michael when this whole thing went down. I would have to find a way to convince her to talk.

“That’s right,” Michael said. “It was just a fumble in the da—” He cut himself off at the warning hiss from Dev.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” Michael pushed the document across the table as if I were all ready to jump on the “amazing opportunity” to play basketball for a university that had covered up a sexual assault. “Once you sign, we’ll need one more thing from you to make this official. You’ve stirred up some bad rumors with all your questions and we need Ethan going into the draft with a squeaky-clean image, and that includes him being in a stable, happy relationship. We thought you, being the daughter of an NBA player, would be excellent PR.”

“You want me to go out with Ethan?” I asked, incredulous. “The rapist?”

“Maybe let’s not use that word,” Michael said. “It’s got some bad connotations—”

“You don’t say.”

“It would just be for show,” the PR dude said, piping up for the first time. “We’d plant a few stories, spread some rumors, get a few pictures of the two of you together… that kind of thing. After the draft, you can go your separate ways. We’re just asking you to play your part.”

“If it’s a safety issue, let me assure you there is nothing for you to worry about,” Michael said. “He was young and he’d been drinking, and he thought he was with his girlfriend—”

“Michael.” Dev shook his head in warning, but Michael waved a dismissive hand. “I’m an up-front guy and it’s better if she knows the truth than the false information she was going to spread.” Turning back to me, he said, “It was a case of mistaken identity, and he’s had to live with the guilt for the last two years. He’s worked hard to get to where he is. We don’t want a little thing like this to derail what promises to be a very successful career.”

Dev’s legal buddy leaned over and whispered something in his ear but I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t breathing. I wasn’t moving.A case of mistaken identity.The final piece of the puzzle slipped into place.

“You’re not her.”

My ears rang. The room dimmed. Bile rose in my throat. I doubled over in my chair and tried not to throw up all over the floor.

“You’re not her.”