"Wait... Harold, are we seeing things?" Alan asked as he rubbed his eyes hard, struggling to believe what he was witnessing.
My lips, which had been pressed tight, finally loosened into a relieved smile after double-checking what I was seeing. "Now it all makes sense," I said.
Looking back, I remembered that gleam in Phoebe's eyes when she'd heard about the racing competition in the car. That hadn't been curiosity or excitement—she was already scheming how to handle Jeremy.
Only that elusive Speed Queen Eden could deliver Jeremy such a crushing, silent defeat on the track.
Alan, lost in thought, quickly pieced it together too. He flipped the screen back to the live feed and commented, "Harold, if little Phoebe is that legendary, never-seen Speed Queen Eden, then Jeremy is royally screwed."
Anyone listening closely could catch the obvious satisfaction in his voice—he was relishing Jeremy's downfall.
