“Close the door, Cinder.”
My pulse kicked up a notch. I shut it carefully behind me.
Dunn didn’t look angry. He looked… administrative. Glasses low on his nose, tablet on his desk, hands folded like this was a budget meeting instead of my life.
“I’m adjusting the travel roster for the road trip,” he said.
“Okay.” I nodded automatically. “I’ve already coordinated with equipment. I’ll bring the portable unit, and I’ve preloaded all updated recovery metrics so we can—”
“You won’t be traveling.”
For a second, I thought I’d misheard him.
“I—what?”
“You’ll remain in Denver for this stretch.”
I stared at him. “Why?”
“Rotation,” he said smoothly. “We need coverage here.”
“That’s not how we usually run it.” My voice stayed steady. I was proud of that. “I handle player maintenance. Especially on extended travel.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then what’s changed?”
A pause. Small. Measured. “Optics.”
The word landed like a bruise.
“I’m not a distraction,” I said.
“No,” he replied. “But you’re adjacent to one.”
My stomach dropped.
“This isn’t disciplinary,” he continued quickly. “You’ll oversee rehab here. Mercer’s still in concussion protocol. Varga’s shoulder reassessment is due Thursday. The development squad needs baseline testing. There’s plenty to do.”
“You’re pulling me because of rumors,” I said quietly. Because of the article. Even though I’d saved a life in that hotel.
He didn’t confirm it. He didn’t deny it. “The head coach wants the road room tight,” he said instead. “Minimal variables.”
Minimal variables.
“This is about Gavin,” I said.
Dunn’s expression shifted just slightly—enough to tell me I’d hit it. Of course security would have reported in.
“We have to be proactive,” he said. “We need to let things cool down.”
“I can consult remotely,” I said woodenly, knowing I had no choice. “Video calls. Updated protocols.”
“Of course,” Dunn replied. “You’ll coordinate with Patel on the road. Send him your notes.”
My notes.
The thought hit like ice water down my spine.