The voice arrives from the side entrance, bright and enthusiastic and belonging to a woman who looks exactly like Miss Phillips.
Except she has pink hair.
Mae frowns, squinting at the approaching figure.
"Miss Phillips? Since when did you have pink hair?"
The woman laughs, gliding onto the ice with a confidence that matches the original Miss Phillips stride for stride. She skids to a graceful stop in front of our group, her pink ponytail swinging behind her.
"The irony of twin sisters working at the same institute," she declares with a grin. "I am Miss Elizabeth Phillips. Just call me Elizabeth or Coach Lizzy for differentiation. My sister is probably lurking in the shadows somewhere. She loves to stalk my sessions."
A voice erupts from the opposite bleachers.
"Do not portray me as a stalker!"
Coach Lizzy laughs, cupping her hands around her mouth to project back across the rink.
"Well, you are proving my point, little sis!"
We all gawk as the original Miss Phillips huffs audibly from the stands, then descends the bleacher steps and walks onto the ice in her own set of skates. She glides until she is standingbeside Coach Lizzy, and the effect of seeing them side by side is genuinely disorienting.
Identical. Down to the bone structure, the eye color, the height, the way they both tilt their heads when they are assessing a situation.
Mae whistles softly.
"Wow. Identical. Thank goodness for the pink hair or we would be completely doomed."
Miss Phillips lets out a short laugh.
"I had to dye it for the sake of my little sister's pack of horny students. The amount of love letters she was receiving addressed to me was getting out of hand."
Coach Lizzy blushes violently.
"Shut your trap! We are in front of students!"
"Students my ass," Miss Phillips replies, waving a hand at our group. "They are old enough to know we have lives and needs beyond grading papers and running drills."
I smirk. Mae and Sage cringe in unison. Etienne smirks beside me, his storm-blue eyes bright with amusement.
"Why are you both here?" Etienne asks, tactfully redirecting before the twin sisters can traumatize us further.
Coach Lizzy's playful demeanor shifts into professional sincerity.
"I need the support to convince a certain ice legend in the making to join the figure skating team." She turns to Mae, her expression warm and earnest. "What you did out there was extraordinary. The way you move on the ice, the body control, the spatial awareness. You are not just talented, Mae. You are generational."
Mae's cheeks flush.
"Nah, I am not good enough yet," she says quickly, the dismissal reflexive and immediate. "I have not trained seriouslyin years. I am rusty and out of shape and probably could not land a triple axel right now if my life depended on it."
"You are more than good enough," Coach Lizzy and Miss Phillips say in perfect unison, then exchange a glance that communicates an entire conversation in a single look.
"Please," Coach Lizzy adds. "At least think about it. We would give you time to train, ramp up at your own pace. No pressure for immediate competition readiness."
Coach Mercer clears his throat.
"And if we offered a temporary strategy coaching position for the hockey team, would you be willing to consider that as well?"
Mae gawks at him, her hazel eyes widening.
