OFF LIMITS

PROLOGUE

KAT – 15 years ago

"Ouch." It's all I can manage to say as I lay like a starfish on the ice, staring at the ceiling. I hear someone skating towards me, and my eyes instantly start to well.

I really wanted to land this jump. I really thought I would. Instead, I bit the ice.

Skates stop next to me, and I lock eyes with the beautiful big brown eyes that usually make me feel like everything will be okay. I've always felt so much comfort in how my mom looks at me. Right now, it makes me cry more.

"Does something hurt, Kitty Kat?" The only effect my mom's words have right now is turning stray tears into sobs.

I close my eyes, trying to force the tears away. I don't want to cry. I want to land this jump.

"Katharina, talk to me." She sounds worried. She knows I'm not a crier. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No," I sob. This is embarrassing, even if it's just my mom and I right now on the ice.

"Can I help you up then?" I open my eyes again. Loving smile. Loving eyes. I'm safe.

I nod, still pouting as she extends her hands to help me get up. I wipe some of my tears before I grab her hands and pull myself up again. She always taught me to get up after a fall, but this time, I needed a little more time as a starfish before I faced the fact that today is not the day I'll land a double Axel.

A teary sigh leaves me as I stand in front of my mom, who apparently finds my misery very comical because I can tell she's fighting not to laugh at how dramatic I'm being right now. "Okay, Kitty Kat. Limb check."

She skates around me while I move each of my limbs to show her everything is working alright and nothing hurts—just my ego– "Nothing hurts, Mom."

"Then why are you crying, baby?"

Because I want my mom to see me land a double. I think I've convinced myself that everything will be better if I land a double before she's gone. I know landing this stupid jump won't cure her, but I think it will make her happy.

"Because I wanted to land the jump," I say in a snotty sob. I keep to myself the part about doing this for her because I know what she'll say. She'll tell me that I don't have to land a jump to make her happy. She'll assure me that she's already happy.

I know she is, but I won't change my mind because maybe this isn't just for her. It's also for me.

I want my mom to see me land my doubles. I want my mom to see me win my first national championship, maybe my first Olympic medal. She won't be there for many of those firsts, but I want her to be here for this one. That way, when she's gone, I can always remember she was with me when I landed it for the first time.

"I know you did, Kitty Kat," She smiles at me, cupping my face and wiping some of the tears that are still falling, and then she softly kisses my forehead. She always does this whenever I bite the ice–or the dust, like when I was learning to ride a bike–and it always automatically makes me feel better. "You'll land it, okay? Just another day."

'Another day, you might not be here to see me,' is what I want to say, but I don't. None of us likes the reminder. Instead of telling her that, I grab her hand, and we begin skating towards the exit. But I'm not done yet, "Mom, wait."

I let go of her hand and skate towards the middle of the ice again. She doesn't stop me. She just stands there and stares intently, waiting to see what I'll do next. And that will be my last attempt at a double Axel today.

As I begin the steps to the jump, I chant in my head, please let this be it. Please let this be it. Once my skates leave the ice, everything seems to go by in slow motion. I feel like I turn in the air for ages before finally landing in the best form I can manage. When I realize I finally landed on my skates instead of my butt, I turn to look at my mom, who's now wearing the biggest smile I've seen her form in a while.

I was right. It did make my mom happy.

She skates toward me, and I glide toward her, colliding in the middle in a big hug. She spins me, and I smile brighter than the sun. "You did it, Kitty Kat. All by yourself."

I did it. All by myself.

***

We decided to get some fries while we waited for my dad to get here with my little sisters. It's our mom and daughter day, which always includes eating yummy foods we wouldn't normally eat. My mom doesn't have much appetite these days but pretends to enjoy the fries while I eat double so she doesn't feel bad.

Behind us, I spot the rink's "shelf of fame." It's a display full of trophies and pictures of the skaters that train here and now are in the big leagues. I've always been so proud that it's mostly my mom there. Medals and trophies from when she was a little girl like me. Pictures of her winning all her national championships and, of course, her Olympic medal. Bronze.

"Do you think I'll ever be on that shelf next to your pictures?" I ask her, popping a fry in my mouth.

"Oh, I have no doubt, Kitty Kat." She smiles brightly, and I match her. "They might have to make a bigger shelf to fit everything you'll achieve. You might even one-up me and get us gold in the Olympics."

"You really think that?" I ask incredulously. My mom is the most successful person on the planet to me, so being better than her sounds like a distant dream.

"Of course," she beams. "I don't think there's anything you can't achieve if you put your mind to it, Katharina."

And for me, my mom's word is as good as gospel. If she says it, it must be true. So, I believe it. I believe I'll be an Olympic gold medalist. And I believe it until she's not here to reassure me anymore.