Page 192 of Knot So Lucky
Aurora leans in, studying the screens with focused intensity.
"But if I apex later, I risk running wide on exit and losing time on the following straight."
"Not with your driving style." I pull up comparative data from Luca's runs. "He needs the later apex because he's more aggressive on initial turn-in. But you're smoother, more progressive with your inputs. You can hold a later apex without the exit issues because your throttle application is more gradual."
We fall into easy rhythm—analyzing corners, discussing strategy, debating the merits of different approaches with the kind of technical detail that would bore most people to tears.
But Aurora is fully engaged, asking intelligent questions, challenging my assumptions, offering insights from the driver's perspective that raw data can't capture.
"Can we customize the steering and brake bias settings?" she asks after we've been at it for maybe an hour. "I feel like the car is fighting me slightly in high-speed direction changes."
"Absolutely." I pull up the configuration interface, making a mental note of the satisfaction coursing through me at her trust. "Talk me through exactly what you're feeling."
She describes the sensations with precision—the slight delay in response, the way the car wants to understeer before suddenly oversteering, the particular vibration through the wheel that suggests the front tires are working harder than the rears.
I translate her words into technical adjustments, tweaking parameters in real-time while explaining what each change will do.
"Try that next session," I say finally, saving the custom configuration. "If it's still not right, we'll keep adjusting until it feels perfect."
Aurora's smile is radiant.
"This is amazing. I've never had someone take the time to actuallylistento what the car feels like and translate that into settings."
The comment makes something in my chest tighten.
Because this is what I love—using my technical knowledge to help drivers succeed, to eliminate the barriers between their instincts and the machine's capabilities. Making their jobs easier, safer, more successful through obsessive attention to details.
"I once caused a crash by missing a small data anomaly," I hear myself saying, the confession emerging before I can stop it.
Aurora's attention shifts from the screens to me, those storm-green eyes going soft with concern.
"It was three years ago. Different team, different driver." I take a sip of espresso, needing something to do with my hands. "I was reviewing telemetry data from practice sessions, looking for optimization opportunities. And I missed it—a tiny fluctuation in the suspension damping rates that suggested a mounting bolt was working loose."
The memory is vivid despite my attempts to bury it. The sound of impact. The way the car disintegrated. The agonizing minutes waiting to hear if the driver survived.
"He lived," I continue quietly. "Broken ribs, concussion, ended his season but not his career. But it could have been so much worse. And it was my fault for not catching the anomaly when I had the data right in front of me."
Aurora's hand finds mine on the table, squeezing gently.
"Is that why you don't drive?" she says slowly, understanding dawning. "Even though you have the skill and competence."
"Sì." I turn my hand to interlace our fingers. "I'd rather sponsor and support drivers' dreams from the sidelines. Be the one ensuring their equipment is perfect, their data is accurate, their success is maximized. Especially in a field that crucifies people before giving them a chance."
I meet her eyes, letting her see the guilt and determination that drives me.
"The current sabotage secretly terrifies me," I admit. "Because I don't want any driver to feel forced into actions beyond their control. Someone sitting behind a computer, messing with them out of jealousy or spite or whatever fucked-up motivation they have. It's cowardly. And if someone is smarter than me in code, we're dealing with a very serious opponent."
I pause, considering.
"But I've always been able to figure things out eventually. Given enough time and resources, I can track anyone, break any encryption, find any digital footprint."
Aurora is quiet for a long moment, her thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand in soothing patterns.
"Maybe we're not looking at all the possibilities," she says finally.
I frown.
"What do you mean?"
