Chapter Two: The Exit Leads to the Stands

He had not laughed or sung. He had only looked exhausted while requesting backup. If paper could not cross, perhaps an indentation could. If her blood had carried the cap, perhaps it could carry ink. She reopened her wound, smeared blood over the final words, folded the rota, and put it inside her badge holder. Time jumped through the second half. The fortieth minute became the fifty-second; each blink advanced the clock. The crowd blocked her path to Medical. They no longer cared who led. They wanted only continuation. At eighty minutes and 2–2, the referee stopped play for an injured player. “Don't stop!” tens of thousands shouted.