The First Spark

The locker room celebration was not champagne. It was exhausted laughter, ice bags, and Marcus holding the game ball like he expected security to take it back. "One win," Dawson said, cutting through the noise. "Do not build a statue for one win." Tyrese grinned. "Can we build a chair?" Even Dawson laughed. The next morning Daniel arrived to find three emails from rival front offices asking about Jamal's availability. He deleted none of them. Information mattered. Interest meant the league had noticed. But he did not answer quickly either. Desperation had a sound, and he had spent years listening to Charlotte make it. Instead he met with the medical staff.