“What kind of challenge?” he asked.

Miles shrugged. “Something with an underdog. A surprising opponent. The internet loves that.”

Sarah, who had remained standing by the door, knew exactly where the conversation was heading. “Not Martin.”

Miles looked toward her. “I didn’t say Martin.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Frank rubbed his forehead. “We are not involving staff in promotional fights.”

For the first time, Miles appeared irritated. “Nobody said a fight. It’s a scene.”

“Then stage it with actors,” Sarah replied.

Tyler laughed. “You want us to hire actors when we already have a comedian cleaning the floor?”

Sarah turned to him. “You have a problem with Martin because he won’t give you the reaction you want. That’s on you.”

Tyler moved toward her. Frank raised a hand between them.

“Enough. Meeting over.”

Miles collected his papers. At the door he paused beside Frank. “You can’t afford to turn down opportunities just because they make people uncomfortable.”

Frank watched him leave. The statement stayed with him all evening.

Later, after the gym emptied, he found Martin tightening the loose cart wheel. Frank stood awkwardly for a moment before speaking.

“Can I ask you something?”

Martin looked up. “Sure.”

“Do you ever think we’re doing it wrong?”

“The cart?”

“No. The place.”

Martin tested the repaired wheel. It rolled smoothly. “I think you know when something’s wrong. You keep hoping the numbers will make it right.”

Frank looked toward the ceiling stain. “You know how close we are to closing?”

“Closer than last month.”

Frank was surprised. “How do you know?”

“Broken things tell you when people stop having money to fix them.”

Neither spoke for a moment. Then Martin wiped his hands and pushed the cart toward the storage room, leaving Frank with the strange sensation that the employee he had barely noticed understood his business more clearly than he did.

CHAPTER 15 — THE CHILD AT THE RING

Nia arrived at Champions Den on a Saturday with a notebook, a pencil, and a determination to interview her grandfather for school. Lena had been called into the hospital, so Martin had agreed to let his granddaughter sit in the small visitor area for an hour while he finished an equipment inventory.

The gym was quieter than usual. A handful of serious fighters trained before the afternoon classes. Sarah greeted Nia at the door and gave her a paper visitor badge.

“Your grandpa says you’re a reporter,” she said.

“For school. I’m writing about somebody important.”

Sarah smiled. “You picked a good subject.”

Nia didn’t understand why the coach said it with such conviction. She knew Martin made good pancakes and told the same three terrible jokes every holiday. She knew he had fought professionally years ago. She did not know what other people at the gym thought of him.

She took a seat near the ring and began writing questions. What was your hardest fight? Did you ever get scared? How do you know when to stop? What does being a champion mean after you retire?

Tyler arrived with Amanda and a small group of friends. They had been filming in the parking lot, and Tyler was in the restless mood that followed a successful post. He saw Martin pushing a cart past the ring and called out.

“Careful, Pops. Don’t get lost on the way to the broom closet.”

Nia looked up.

Martin continued walking. Tyler stepped closer and lowered his voice to a deliberately theatrical whisper that could still be heard across the gym.

“Tell your people I’m doing them a favor by letting you work here.”

Nia stood so abruptly her pencil fell to the floor.

“Don’t talk to my grandpa like that.”

Martin stopped.

Tyler turned. He seemed briefly amused by the sudden appearance of a child. “Who’s this?”

“My granddaughter,” Martin said, stepping between them. “She’s visiting.”

“She got your attitude?” Tyler asked.

“She has her own.”

Amanda lowered her phone. Sarah approached from the ring.

“Nia, why don’t we go look at the old photographs?” she said, then looked hard at Tyler. “This isn’t happening in front of a child.”

Tyler lifted both hands in mock surrender. “Everybody’s so sensitive.”

Martin waited until Sarah had led Nia away, then turned toward the younger boxer. He felt anger rise with a speed that surprised him. Not because Tyler had insulted him, but because the boy had drawn Nia into a cruelty she did not understand.

“Leave my family out of it,” Martin said.

Tyler stared at him. The words were quiet but unmistakable. Martin had never spoken to him that way before.