The announcer called out the names of the drivers about to take the track. Chloe Bishop stood up, helmet in hand, and walked toward the racecourse step by step. Gary watched her straight-backed figure and said to Ken Marsh with relief, "Good thing you took her phone away early." Ken Marsh sighed. "The cyberbullying these days is utterly senseless. I hope Chloe doesn't let it get to her." But at this moment, Chloe Bishop wasn't thinking about any of that. Like the other five drivers, she walked steadily toward her car. The camera zoomed in on her face. Her delicate features, accentuated by flawless makeup and the necklace she wore, radiated an otherworldly beauty. Her fair skin seemed to glow, luminous and breathtaking. A section of the crowd stirred with energy, as if someone had orchestrated it. Chants rose in perfect unison: "Chloe Bishop, go! Chloe Bishop, go!" The Shawn Grayson couple, the Hilux couple, Lady Grayson—all of them seemed to have shed a decade or more. They shout
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