Chapter 48: All the Right Questions
Date: Tuesday, August 26, 2003
The shape wasn’t there yet. But the pieces were moving.
Demien closed the office door behind him and didn’t speak for the first ten seconds. Xabi sat on the other side of the desk, still in travel clothes. No sweat yet. No boots. Just a fresh notepad resting untouched on his lap and a bottle of water unopened beside his elbow.
He looked up. Didn’t smile.
Demien didn’t sit right away. He took a few steps toward the window, watched the sunlight cut sharp across the training pitch where the warm-ups were starting. Adebayor and Plašil were already running figure-eights through cones. Giuly was stretching with one knee down, jaw clenched, like every muscle in him refused to trust the softness of the morning.
Behind them, Zikos and Bernardi ran in silence.
"You’re not here to carry us," Demien said.
Xabi blinked once.
"You’re here to connect us."
The words didn’t land with drama. Just fact.
Xabi took a breath, not long, not slow. When he answered, he did it in Spanish—quietly, without flourish.