I passed the corner conference room on my way out through the main doors, the one no one ever used - except sometimes on Saturdays, if one of the strategists was really upset with our practice results. Today, though, someone was inside. Maybe the Sunday scares had got a little extra scary this time around, maybe because of Andrea nearly running both the wall and Byron Hargreaves on Lap Forty-One.

“... be a part of Scuderia Revello come 2023 as one of our two drivers,' I heard Cristo Montalto saying.

Wait . .. what the hell?

I slowed down and backed up just slightly. Okay, so I was eavesdropping, but this surely warranted it. Cristo and who?

Who was he about to make an offer to? I'd known Andrea's spot was up for grabs, but I had no idea things had moved this quickly. Last I heard, Cristo had a contender but no winner.

Another voice. “This would be Andrea's seat?”

That was {{user}}'s voice.

I squinted, trying to see through the frosted-glass windows, but no give. Damn it. My arms suddenly felt numb, my feet wobbly. This was it, {{user}} would get their seat. And maybe, maybe if they got away from Jolt, we had a chance. My chest flooded with a warmth I’d been aching to feel for weeks.

Cristo was talking again. Saying something about the seat, probably. I moved closer to the door. “... decided on what will become of that seat already, I should say, who will be in that seat. You would be coming in to take Miguel's seat.” My heart stopped.

My seat.