I close Madison’s email, placing my phone back in my coat pocket. I guess I won’t text to ensure she is up then call her like last night. My excitement to share tonight’s game with her evaporates.

My head in my hands, I hunch forward, elbows on my knees. An acrid taste fills my mouth, and my stomach feels heavy. The overwhelming need to comfort Madison feuds with my need to celebrate with my team.

My mind races with possibilities. The team flies home tomorrow; our next ...