It's like nothing ever happened.

I go back inside and continue Sinterklaasavond, and Leah texts me goodnight like she used to do. Unable to sleep, I reply with something that could result in a conversation. She picks up on it and we message back and forth until it is the early morning.

I know that it is definitely not a long-term fix, but her being so quick to agree tells me that she was missing me too.

Leah's final match before the football season breaks is in Zürich, a Champions League group-stage fixture. I am at Lize's house, wanting to watch the match without Papa being suspicious. My cousin assumes I'm there to visit Noa, and that her daughter ropes me into watching Arsenal play.

Arsenal have had their feathers ruffled by the injuries of Beth Mead and Vivianne Miedema, with both of them rupturing their ACLs. Leah's in the midfield, which she isn't the most pleased with, but Arsenal score four goals in the first half so the change must have been effective. She texts me from the locker room, saying that she hopes I'm celebrating every time they score. I send her the video I took of Noa losing it over Frida Maanum's free kick.

They win their game 9-1. It's a shocking result and proof that they will manage without their two star forwards. Leah's satisfaction with the result leads to her calling me as I nip out to pick up some wine before Fleur's match starts.

This call is very different to the last, consisting mainly of her giving me a second-by-second, in-depth recount of the match from her unnecessarily analytical brain. As much as I love to watch football, hearing how she correctly dug her boot into the ground to maximise the power of her run is not very interesting.

She asks if I'm watching Fleur play at Camp Nou. Of course I am – Papa's coming to Lize's for this one.

Yesterday, Fleur thought I had gone back to Australia. Our annual ski trip in Austria has been cancelled because all of our cousins are going to their in-laws' houses over Christmas instead. She assumed I'd be back in Melbourne by now, seeing as the tennis season isn't very far away and I want to win the Australian Open to set the tone for the rest of the Grand Slams.

I haven't told her that I am still at home. She would ask why, and the only reason is because the time difference between Leah and I is better here. We can even tell each other to get on a plane and visit, though those words never come to fruition.

Fleur said she and Scarlett had argued last night, but it was only in passing as she complained about not being able to sleep. When she walks out for the warm-up, she looks scary. Determined. This is the Fleur de Voss that lengthens her highlight reel.

The game is tight from the beginning.

Scarlett and Fleur's usual connection is missing, but Chelsea seem to cope, giving the Barcelona defence a run for their money when Sam Kerr is given a beautifully weighted pass on the counter-attack. She dribbles forward, avoiding Barcelona's 2, before off-loading the ball to Scarlett. She pulls it back, gearing up to shoot, but is tackled at the last second by Barcelona's 4.

The Barcelona side proceeds to keep possession for five minutes, increasing the possibility of a nil-nil first half, but a tackle by Fleur on Keira Walsh just over halfway down the pitch puts Chelsea in the perfect position for Fleur to send the ball to the right wing, and have Scarlett sprint down towards the goal. It's a common play for them, seeing as there is almost nobody faster than Scarlett Powell.

She dribbles past the Barcelona goalkeeper, tapping the ball into the net with a complacent smirk. Chelsea's celebrations are cut short with Barcelona's unwillingness to go into half-time losing; they score from a well-placed corner kick and a header only seconds before the whistle blows.

We play a round of Uno per Noa's insistence. She joins my team, and it's an easy win. I'm good at board games.

At the start of the second half, the tension is high and rising. Neither team wants to lose their final game of 2022.

In the fifty-fourth minute, Chelsea are on a massive break. Scarlett is running so fast that she is sure to have surpassed her top speed, and there are no Barcelona defenders who can catch up to her. What begins as a lone woman on an empty pitch turns into a congested box, with Barcelona anticipating her cross into Sam Kerr.

Suddenly, everybody stops.

It's hard to see what is going on, but every single player on the pitch stands as still as a statue, looks of horror painted on with terrifying intensity.

Scarlett is on the ground, unmoving.

I blink, and she is being stretchered off, Fleur chasing the paramedics barely a second after.

Lize takes Noa to the kitchen, not wanting her to feel the shift in environment as Papa and I look at each other with questions on what to do. My first thought is to call Leah. Scarlett is her best friend, and she was watching the match.

"Are you alright?" I ask her worriedly, locked in the bathroom for privacy.

"Shouldn't you be asking Fleur that?"

Fleur will have fifty people calling her asking her that question. She won't even answer them. She likes to do these things alone, likes to make everyone worry about her sanity. Radio silence is her go-to coping method.

I explain that to Leah, who hums and then stops. Her breathing goes ragged and strained, and I can hear her fall apart. Tears form in my eyes at the sound. "She will be okay," I comfort, though I'm not sure of that. We saw the replay of what happened, and she was immediately unconscious. Players don't usually get knocked out by goalposts. "Leah, listen to me. It will be okay."

"She's my best friend," Leah stutters out. "She looked dead, Jaimie. She looked dead!"

"She'll be alright."

My phone buzzes against my ear. I sit up straighter on the toilet lid, reading what Fleur has sent me. Three simple words.

Flootz: Scarlett is dead

I regret my previous statement.

Reading the words once more, I try them out, moving the phone so that it isn't picked up on the speaker. They feel wrong, but I swallow hard and accept what I have to tell her.

"Leah." She is silent. It's best that I am the one to break the news to her, better than her hearing it from the commentators or reading it on the news. "Leah, I'm so sorry." Leah lets out a high-pitched whine, her entire world crashing down on top of her. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no, no, no–" Leah sobs uncontrollably, breaking up on the line. "This isn't happening, this isn't happening. This can't be happening."

I don't know what else to say to her. All I want is to be in England with her; to hold her so that she isn't collapsed on the floor of her house. Alone.

"Leah," I whisper. "Lee, babe, it is going to be alright." She repeats the same words over and over, underscoring my sentences as I try to calm her down. "You are going to be alright. Do you have someone who can come over to be with you?"

"I just want you," she says, voice cracking, splintering with grief. "Don't go. I don't want you to go."

"Okay, I won't, but call your mum. You need to have someone there with you."

She snivels before another sob escapes her, this time bordering on a scream. "No, no, no, no, no," she carries on. I hear something smash and hear her body thud against the floor.

I put her on speaker, continuing to reassure her that everything will be fine, and check flight times. I can be there by midnight. Fuck my carbon footprint.

"I'm coming, Lee, okay? I'm going to get on a plane and come."

It will be the first time in two months that I have seen her, and in the worst circumstances possible. I need to think of a reason to tell my family to explain my quick departure to London.

━━━━━━━

Leah's house is an excruciating thirty-minute taxi journey from Luton airport. I hammer on the door with no bags, no overnight clothes. My passport is tucked into the waistband of my joggers, too big to fit in the pocket.

The door creaks open with a tired-looking Amanda Williamson, whose mouth forms a perfect 'o' at my arrival. I run a hand through my hair and she steps aside so that I can rush in. "She's in the living room," Amanda calls after me.

I tear through the hallway, slamming the door to the living room open to get to her. My heart beats out of my chest as I search for her face, and then stops completely when I see her.

There, on the sofa, she sits; motionless. The mug of tea in her hand shakes, brown liquid spilling over the lip of the ceramic, trickling down her wrist. She doesn't flinch, though I can see the steam rising.

"Leah," I breathe, though it is loud in the silence. Her head turns in my direction, but her eyes remain glazed over.

The mug crashes to the ground.

I hold her up before she follows its path. She fights me for a moment, limbs thrashing as I cradle her head, but gives up quickly when she realises I am not going to let go of her. She resigns to her fate, drooping in my lap, chest heaving with silent sobs.

I grip her tightly, arms wrapped around her torso as she begins to scream, unable to do anything other than listen to her. She buries her face in my stomach, silent again, and I can feel my hoodie saturating with her tears. She shakes her head, drilling her way into me, pressing me against the cushions of the sofa. I tie her hair back so it doesn't get caught in anything.

Amanda watches from the doorway, eyes asking if I'm alright with this; whether I want to swap with her. I shake my head, feeling Leah's fingers clutch my hoodie, clinging on so that there is no way she can be left alone. The next grief-choked wail she lets out causes Amanda to sit beside me, stroking her daughter's hair, murmuring words that I can't hear to her.

"Thank you," Amanda mouths, glancing up at me. I nod, feeling my phone begin to buzz.

Papa texted Mumma, telling her to call Fleur. Papa's on his way to Barcelona to get her, not wanting her to have to fly back to London with the team. He can't stay with her, but Lize is going to fly out when she gets home to care for her. I told them that I need to go back to Australia soon, and that if I stayed with Fleur, I would never be able to leave; I would feel too guilty. They understood.

I already feel guilty for lying.

"Take the call," Amanda says. She lifts Leah's head up. "Give Jaimie a minute, darling." I shuffle around so that she is no longer on top of me, enabling me to move.

Leah's eyes follow me as I leave the room, answering Papa's call.

It's a report of what is happening; how she died, when her body is being flown back to England. It has been seven hours that Fleur has been at the hospital, now joined by her captain, and Papa tells me that she is asleep on the woman's shoulder. He will be able to get to Spain tomorrow morning.

"Amanda, can I–" She gets up quickly when I return.

"Yeah, of course. I'll leave you two alone."

Leah doesn't have the energy to draw herself upright, so I let her crawl back into my lap. "You're alright," I whisper, twirling a loose strand of her hair around my finger. "You're going to be alright, Leah."

"You're here," she croaks, hands running up my thighs as if to confirm my presence. "I love you. You're here."

"You're alright," I repeat, choosing to ignore what she said. Now is not the time. "You're going to be alright.."

"I love you," she says again, insistent. "I am sure of it."

"You're going to be alright."

notes:

u knew scarlett's death was coming so don't get annoyed 🙄

timeline because i doubt you remember from hmc

54' - She is sprinting at top speed and collides with the goalpost. She goes down immediately, unconscious.

57' - Paramedics on, stretchered off

58' - Fleur de Voss subbed off for Sophie Ingle

75' - Doctor at hospital calls time of death of Scarlett Powell

76' - Emma Hayes receives news of death

The game carried on to full-time and the team found out afterwards, apart from Magda who was doing an interview and realised from her teammates' reactions

In this universe, Barcelona and Chelsea are in the same group and this is an alternate version of the Barca vs Rosengard match on the 21st (Arsenal played Zurich on the same day)

yeah sorry about this! i hate writing scenes like this bc they are horrible, awful things to imagine

we don't speak of jaimie's carbon footprint pls just let her be a globe trotter 🙏🙏

thanks for reading xx