𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐋𝐍𝟒

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Baden-Württemberg Hockenheimring.
A week later.

It was the kind of motorsport event you didn't hear much about unless you followed the scene closely.. Karting races featuring young talents, with a few well-known figures quietly watching from the sidelines. No fanfare. No red carpets. Just engines humming low and people who understood speed.

Milaine stood near one of the smaller tents with her mother and Ralph. The announcer's voice cracked slightly through the speaker system, welcoming spectators, listing sponsors, mentioning former German legends who once raced similar tracks.

Milaine leaned slightly against the barrier, her eyes following the kids being fitted into their helmets. She wasn't saying much—just observing. Ralph stood beside her, arms crossed, eyes squinting toward the track.

«I heard Sebastian Vettel might show up» he said casually, glancing toward Lucie. «Just to watch. He's been doing that lately—showing up to these events, supporting the young ones.»

Lucie raised an eyebrow. «Hm. That'd be something.»

Milaine glanced between them. «Vettel, really?»

«Wouldn't be the first time» Ralph said. «And it's not just him. Few other names might swing by.»

«Guess this isn't such a low-key race after all» Milaine murmured, looking down to her clothes, and oversized hoodie and low rise baggy jeans , combined with a simple cap to shield her face from anyone that might know her.. She didn't put any effort into her clothes thinking no one would recognize her since it was just a karting race, and she was here for her brother...

«It's Germany» Lucie said, dryly. «Motorsport is a religion here.»

Milaine smiled faintly. «Fair enough.»

They stood in silence for a few more seconds. Then Lucie turned her gaze to her daughter. She looked at her longer than usual, studying the expression on her face. Not her outfit, not her posture—her energy.

«You look... different» Lucie said, her voice soft but still wrapped in that usual coolness.

Milaine tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips lifting in a faint smirk, She knew her mother would notice «Different good or different bad?»

Lucie didn't answer right away. She just kept her gaze steady on her daughter, the same way she used to study runway lights before stepping out. Calculated. Cool. But not cold—not today.

«You just... seem less haunted» she said finally, her voice low. «You used to walk around like there was always something chasing you.»

Milaine looked down at her sneakers. «Maybe I finally stopped running.»

Lucie didn't nod or smile or reach out. She wasn't the type. Instead, she glanced back toward the track.

«You know, when you were younger, I thought you were too fragile for all this» she said. «Tennis. Pressure. Loss. But I was wrong.»

Milaine glanced up again, a little taken aback. Compliments from her mother came rarely—and never without edges.

«You're still a mess.. God you're my daughter, you'll always be a mess» Lucie added, arching one perfectly shaped brow. «But you're no longer falling apart.»

Milaine laughed under her breath. «A hot mess, at least.. But thanks»

Ralph chuckled behind them, not interrupting—just quietly amused by the fact that, for once, neither woman had walked away mid-sentence.