'She's running so slow. There's no doubt she's headed for the training camp.'
'I shouldn't have run so fast. Now, at the training camp, I wonder if she'll be able to manage all by herself. But then again, it's not my place to worry. Someone will be there to "take care of" her.'
With this thought, Henry Hartwell smiled faintly, turned to pick up his bottle of water, and took a leisurely sip.
...
The women's 800-meter race quickly ended. The fastest runner finished in under four minutes, and the slowest, without a shadow of a doubt, was Claire Sinclair.
By the time everyone else had crossed the finish line, Claire Sinclair was still shuffling along at a pace that was nearly a walk...
Yes, she was running.
Though her speed was incredibly slow, her expression was strained. Her face was pale, her mouth was dry, and she panted heavily, mouth agape.
