After collecting her prize, Eleanor didn't remove her helmet until she reached the locker room door.
Men's and women's changing rooms ran separate here, and she had the space entirely to herself.
She went in wearing her racing suit, came out in street clothes.
Beyond the prize money, racing had become her real outlet for stress. The adrenaline of cornering at the limit, the rush of crossing the line first even now, well past the race itself, the high hadn't fully faded.
Night had settled deep by then.
Outside the circuit, the crowd thinned to nothing as the last stragglers filtered out.
One yellow Lamborghini stayed put at the curb.
Tyler had been sitting in it for nearly half an hour.
The image of Chloe Lynn pulling off her helmet in the locker room doorway kept replaying in his h
