“Player number 12 is eligible. I’m clearing the hold effective now.” Ward let out a breath slowly as though she had been holding it since the office meeting. She accepted the written decision and asked whether Imani could enter at the next stoppage. The head official said yes.

The score at that moment was 36 to 27. Orchard was up nine with nearly a full half left. Imani rose to unzip her warm-up jacket. Zora met her at the sideline, shoulders gleaming with sweat. “About time,” Zora said.

“Sorry I missed the fun.” “The fun is mostly me trying to guard three people at once.” “Then let’s change that.” Ward put a hand on Imani’s shoulder. “You’re cleared because the record is correct not because we need you to save us.

We do need you to play the basketball we’ve practiced.” Imani nodded. She had imagined her return a dozen times from the bench, each version ending with an impossible burst of points. Now that she was standing at the table the court looked ordinary and enormous. The paint was scuffed.

A referee bent to retrieve a loose whistle. Mina was drinking water with both hands. This was a game and it would refuse to become a story about justice unless she first treated it like a game. Her first possession was ugly. Orchard trapped near half court and Imani nearly let the ball brush her knee.

She recovered, called Zora up, and used the high screen to send a short pass into the lane. Zora caught and kicked it out. Marisol missed the open shot. Orchard collected the rebound. The bench didn’t cheer, and nobody pretended that Imani’s mere presence had changed the score.

On defense, however, she called out Orchard’s double screen of beat before it arrived. Mina slid around the first blocker instead of being caught behind it. Zora stayed home against the taller forward. Orchard’s guard threw a hurried pass out of bounds. South Dock regained possession, and Imani made a safe, almost boring entry pass to Zora near the elbow.

Zora drew contact and made both free throws. “Two at a time,” Imani said as they ran back. Orchard scored. South Dock scored. With 3 minutes left in the third, the margin was down to six.

Imani saw Orchard’s central defender begin to cheat toward her left every time she started a drive. She tried a right-handed runner from 5 ft, the shot she’d practiced in the dawn gym. It touched the glass softly and fell through. A cheer rose from South Dock’s bench. Imani felt a small lift of satisfaction, then forced herself back on defense.