Chapter Three: Whose Script?

“Doctor Han recommended thirty-four to thirty-eight minutes. I've played seventeen. There is no pain or swelling, and my perceived fatigue is three out of ten.” She loosened her brace and flexed the knee smoothly. “If the assessment changed, let the responsible clinician explain.” Luo appeared in the doorway. “The team made the decision. Do you object to being protected?” “Protected or controlled?” Qiao rose. “Captain Qiao, remember your position.” “My position is among the five people grabbing the damned rebounds—and escorting people who don't understand basketball out of the room.” The room ignited. Zhou Yan went pale. Tang gripped her towel.