"Yes," Jane said quickly, forcing a small smile. "Just scrolling."
Roger glanced at her more closely now. "We were asking what you think," he said. "United versus Frankfurt. Do you see us winning?"
Jane hesitated for just a fraction of a second. Her eyes dropped back to her phone, then she locked the screen and set it face down on her lap.
"The first leg?" she said slowly. "Maybe. At Old Trafford, without him, United could get something."
"And over both legs?" Lexi asked.
Jane exhaled softly. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Frankfurt are… resilient. We'll see."
The television droned on in the background, highlights rolling, pundits talking tactics and momentum. Lexi leaned back again, already moving on to the next talking point, but Jane stayed still, her thoughts far away, her phone silent on her lap.
Somewhere in Frankfurt, a sixteen-year-old was getting ready for the biggest tie of his life.
And she knew it.
* * *
