“The organization’s archive department.”
“Who requested it?”
“That information will be available through the appropriate channels.”
“And who had access to the original records?”
Sloane’s smile became thinner.
“You are turning a sporting event into a personal crusade, Miss Mercer.”
“No. Someone turned my life into a story that sold tickets. I'm trying to find out who wrote it.”
For the first time, Sloane looked genuinely irritated.
Master Ward asked the foundation’s director, Dr. Helen Morris, to secure the document and arrange an independent forensic examination. She agreed immediately and instructed her staff to preserve the chain of custody.
The showcase continued, but the atmosphere had changed.
The demonstration that had brought Ironclad Academy together now seemed almost insignificant beside the mystery unfolding around them.
Later that evening, Lena found Julian Cross sitting alone in a quiet corridor behind the practice hall. His hands rested on his knees, and his eyes were fixed on the floor.
“My father says he never signed it,” Julian said.
“He didn't.”
“And you didn't.”
“No.”
“But someone wanted the world to believe you both did.”
Lena sat beside him.
“That's what we're going to find out.”
Julian rubbed his face. “For years, I thought the truth was simple. You injured my father. He lost everything. You moved on, and he didn't.”
“I didn't move on as easily as you think.”
“I know that now.”
He hesitated.
“When I first heard you were coming to Ironclad, I wanted to beat you. Not because I understood what happened, but because hating you was easier than watching my father suffer.”
Lena studied him.
“And now?”
“Now I want the person responsible to answer for it.”
“Then we have the same goal.”
A door opened at the end of the corridor. Marcus appeared, holding a laptop.
“You need to see something.”
He placed the laptop on a bench and opened a folder of archived promotional materials. Derek and Master Ward joined them a moment later.
Marcus had been comparing the showcase document with old files from Sloane’s promotional campaigns. One image showed an announcement published two days before the incident between Lena and Adrian.
The headline read: THE RISING STAR CHALLENGES THE UNDISPUTED KING.
Beneath it was a photograph of Lena and Adrian facing one another.
“That announcement was released before our private sparring session,” Lena said.
“Exactly,” Marcus replied. “The official tournament schedule says you two were never supposed to meet outside the competition. Yet the promotional department already had a headline ready.”
Derek leaned over the screen.
“Maybe they expected a challenge afterward.”
“Maybe,” Marcus agreed. “But look at the file date.”
The original image had been created almost three weeks earlier.
Julian frowned. “Someone anticipated the confrontation.”
“Or planned to make it happen,” Lena said.
Master Ward remained silent for a long moment.
Then he pointed at a small line of text at the bottom of the screen.
“Read that.”
Marcus enlarged the image.
The line identified the promotional materials as the property of a company called Northstar Athlete Management.
Julian looked up sharply.
“That was one of my father’s sponsors.”
“And one of Sloane’s companies,” Adrian said from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Adrian stood there with a cane in one hand. He had come to the corridor without announcing himself.
“I remember Northstar,” he continued. “They offered me a new contract before the tournament. The agreement included a clause requiring me to participate in certain promotional appearances.”
“Did you sign?” Lena asked.
“I signed a preliminary agreement. I never accepted the final contract.”
“Why not?”
“Because the final version required me to compete even if my medical team advised against it.”
The room fell silent.
Adrian looked at the laptop again.
“After my injury, Sloane told me the contract had been canceled. I believed him. I never saw the final paperwork.”
Master Ward’s face hardened.
“Then we need those records.”
Adrian nodded. “I kept copies of the preliminary agreement. They’re at my house.”
Julian rose immediately. “Then let's get them.”
“No,” Lena said.
He turned toward her.
“We don't rush into another situation because we're angry. We make copies, preserve the evidence, and let independent investigators examine it.”
Marcus nodded. “She's right.”
Julian took a breath, then reluctantly agreed.
As they prepared to leave, Adrian caught Lena’s attention.
“There is something else,” he said quietly. “The night I was injured, I received a message telling me you had publicly questioned my reputation.”
Lena stared at him.
“I never said anything about you.”
“I know that now.”
“Who sent it?”
Adrian’s eyes moved toward the laptop, where the Northstar logo glowed against the dark screen.
“I don't remember the exact sender. But I remember the final line.”
He paused.
“It said that if I wanted to protect my legacy, I needed to confront you before the next tournament.”
Outside, the showcase lights began shutting down one by one.
Lena felt the pieces of the past moving closer together.