He was just there. Watching. Not participating.
Because it was his brother all along.
"Holy shit," I breathe.
"Yeah." Jace takes another sip of his smoothie. "Bastien's actually still here, by the way. He's on the senior division hockey team. Been attending the university for a few years."
My head is spinning.
"Senior division?"
"There are two teams at Valenridge," Sage explains. "Junior and Senior. The junior team is for newer students and younger players. That's where Rafe, Cal, and Étienne are. The senior team is for veterans and upperclassmen. Bastien's been on that squad since he started here."
"So Étienne and his brother are both goalies?"
"On their respective teams, yeah." Jace nods. "Funny coincidence. Or maybe it's a family thing."
I sit back in my chair, trying to absorb this revelation.
I've been holding a grudge against Étienne for thirteen years.
For crimes his brother committed.
The guilt hits me like a truck.
Earlier today, in the locker room, I'd looked at him and seen another enemy. Another face from my nightmares. But he'dgiven me his jersey. Protected me from Vanessa. Looked at me with those soft storm-blue eyes like I was worth protecting.
And I'd mentally lumped him in with the people who destroyed me.
"Mae?" Sage's voice cuts through my spiral. "You okay? You look like you just swallowed a lemon."
"I'm fine." The words come out automatic. "Just... processing."
She studies me for a moment, then nods, seeming to understand.
"Fair enough. Processing is valid."
I take a breath, forcing myself to refocus.
"Okay. So Étienne wasn't actually one of my tormentors. Good to know. But that still leaves me dorming with Rafe and Cal, who definitely were." I pick up my fork again, needing to do something with my hands. "What else do you know about them? Since apparently you two are fountains of Valenridge gossip."
Sage grins, clearly in her element.
"Oh, honey, I knoweverything.This school is a hotbed of drama, and I am fully subscribed."
"She's not lying," Jace adds. "It's actually concerning how much she knows about people she's never spoken to."
"It's called being observant."
"It's called being nosy."
"Potato, tomato."
"That's not how that saying goes."
"Shut up and let me gossip." Sage turns back to me with theatrical flair. "Okay. Rafe Calder. Where do I even begin?"
She taps her chin like she's selecting information from a mental filing cabinet.
