imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

twenty.

suspicion has its dupes & credulities

With her not-so-recent relationship with Trent, the great progression that Liverpool had in their leagues and the new arrival of 2019, Wynter felt as though things were really looking up for her—both in terms of her football career and self-growth. With the number of hard-won goals scored by the player (so far), she believed by now, she'd received the trust from the Kop.

On top of that, it was clear from those who had knowledge of her tough past that Wynter had gone through a brief journey of progression for the past few months. Of course, it had yet to come to an end, but the fact that she was headed towards a positive outcome everyone felt as though there was nothing to worry about. If she was in a positive mindset, then it always outputted a productive effect on her playing both in training and on the pitch so all in all, collectively, everyone benefitted from the girl's newly adapted attitudes.

With unoccupied time, she built her walls up and blocked pessimistic emotions from taking control of her mentality. However, within a matter of a few minutes, those sturdy walls fractured faster than they were assembled.

Wynter sat across from her mother as she anticipated the older woman's verdicts. The way Claire greeted her with a soft smile which held a glint of sympathy, the way Claire took unhurried steps into the household clearly told the french girl that surely something was wrong, or her mother would come with something that she wouldn't be pleased with.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Wynter dropped the pin. "What's up, mom?"

"I have some," Claire cocked her head to the side, sucking in a deep inhale. ". . . good news to share with you."

"Really? It seems like you're a bit nervous to say what you want to say," Wynter said. She knew her older self better than her mother thought so.

Claire glanced at her daughter as a look of reluctance washed over her face. "Well, it kind of all depends on how you react to the news."

"Mom," Wynter gestured for Claire to offer a hand, which she did. Interlocking her fingers with her mother's, the french player glanced at Claire. "Just rip the bandaid off and just tell me. It can't be that bad." Anticipation had quickly taken over Wynter. With her mother's continuous rambles, the french girl's nerves only spiked up with time.

"Alright then," Claire exhaled before she continued again. "Ever since the whole ordeal with your dressing room in Russia, your dad and I along with FIFA have been trying to get to the bottom of who got into your dressing room after France won against Argentina. . ."

The slight mention of the match instantly brought back the specific memories that she believed she'd locked away for a long time. The ones that reminded her of the unpleasant sensations which were inflicted on her petit figure. The ones that held the masked perpetrator, his unidentified face by Wynter causing a significant lack of justice for the girl. The memory that Wynter never wanted to relive, but always found herself glancing back at it with a hint of curiosity as to why it out of all people, why did it happen to her?

". . Like you mentioned before, you were never able to identify the person since it all happened in the dark so the case hadn't been given much attention until now. I think we're going to get somewhere with this," her mother concluded, giving Wynter's hand a light squeeze.

"And that is?"

"The stadium recently pulled up video surveillance from that day and it shows the person moments before he got into your dressing room, so they can identify who it is."

Wynter's heart skipped a beat at the statement. "What? Really?"

Claire nodded. "Yes and because this is brand new evidence brought into the case, the court is going to be looking into it as soon as possible so that person can be charged for what he did."