Ezren’s hands knotted in her long sleeves. She thought of Foster winning the brawl in the BRR for them. Of him carrying her across the finish line. There was nothing Foster Sterling, race royale prodigy, couldn’t do… but her? “I… I don’t know if I can do this alone.” Sylvia reached out and squeezed her arm. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not alone.” Ezren looked from Sylvia’s soft expression of understanding to Bex’s set jaw, and her voice dropped to a choked whisper. “Thank you.”
