“She violated access.”
“She disclosed the access.”
“She used your family.”
My hands curl once at my sides.
“Watch it.”
Silas stills.
Let him hear the line.
“My mother reads everything written about me,” I say. “She will think Peyton was brave.”
“Your mother is not responsible for protecting this franchise.”
“Neither is Peyton.”
“No. You are.”
The lever.
I am tired of levers.
“We drafted a statement,” Silas says. “Player welfare, organizational values, disappointment in breaches of trust. We need you to sign off.”
“No.”
“Ryan.”
“I am not doing damage control because she wrote something true.”
“Truth is not the issue.”
“It usually isn’t when people start using words like narrative.”
Silas stands. “Think carefully about where your loyalty lies.”
“I know where it lies.”
“Do you? Because from here it looks like you are choosing a reporter over the organization that gave you the C.”
I step closer to the desk.
“The room gave me the C. The guys who bleed for each other gave me the C. The kids who still believe this game gives back gave me the C. You stitched it on a jersey.”
Silas’s face hardens.
“There will be consequences.”
“There usually are.”
“Endorsements. Media. Captaincy, if ownership decides you are no longer aligned.”
The word captaincy hits.
I let it.