Her obsession is winning.
It's standing under the hot sun in a black velvet dress and watching twin coffins being lowered into matching graves.
It's the echo of their mother's last words spinning in her head: Your father and I are just going out for a little while, sweetie. You two practice hard while we're gone. We want a prize-winning routine out of you when we get back!
It's the tears that rolled down her twin's cheeks as he turned to her for guidance, and the duty of fulfilling last wishes.
"What do we do now, Fairchild?"
"We go practice."
His obsession is perfection.
It comes from years of eavesdropping –
On classmates: He can't jump rope. He can't count high enough.
On other skaters: He must suck if he can't find a partner besides his sister.
On his parents: Stranz is lucky he's a good skater. He'd never be able to hold down a job.
and taunts –
From teachers: Why can't you pay attention?
From her: You fuck everything up! Even Katie is more competent than you.
It's easy for Fairchild to care about winning for winning's sake. She doesn't have to prove herself to the world every single day.
Their sister's obsession is them.
She has always been an outsider, and they are the epitome of partnership. Inclusion. Family.
But they do bad things – shocking, unethical things. She knows this.
She feels like one of those witnesses on cop shows, the ones afraid to testify because they themselves are far from guiltless.
Because she's their accomplice. They smile and tell her she's part of Team Van Waldenberg. Sometimes she almost believes it.
She thinks that if they ever get caught, she'll go to prison along with them.
Maybe that's the only place where the three of them truly belong.