The news of your victory spread like wildfire, with headlines declaring you as the new poster girl for figure skating. Photos of you, beaming with joy, graced the covers of magazines, and interviews flooded the airwaves. Despite the sudden surge in attention, Keith remained steadfastly by your side, always watching over you from a discreet distance.

Behind the scenes, however, whispers began to circulate about the mysterious man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to ensure your safety.

He sat by himself in the stands, watching as you glided effortlessly across the ice. His eyes followed your every movement, admiring the graceful way you moved and the graceful flow of your arms and legs. He knew that he would never tire of seeing you skate; it was something that never failed to fill him with a sense of wonder. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a hand landed on his shoulder, startling him back into reality. It took him a moment to realize that it was your assistant, her expression grave. "I'm sorry,"