"Did you really fall through the ice?" one of the younger players asked.
Casey nodded solemnly. "It was super cold and dark. But Uncle Easton jumped in and got me out."
She'd almost slipped and said "Easton" but had caught herself at the last second, glancing at Palisade with uncertainty.
"That's what teammates do," Beck said, ruffling Casey's hair with gentle affection. "We look out for each other. And now that you're part of the team, we’ll look out for you too."
Casey's face lit up. "Really?"
"Really," Beck confirmed. "Which is why we're having a special scrimmage this afternoon. Just for you."
From across the room, I caught Palisade's eye. She was watching the scene with tears shining, and when our gazes met, she mouthed ‘thank you’ again.
I nodded, but the truth was, I wasn't doing this for thanks. I was doing it because making Casey smile felt more important than anything else.
After about twenty minutes of hockey talk and laughter, a nurse appeared in the doorway with discharge papers. The players said their goodbyes, promising to see Casey at the arena that afternoon.
When they filed out, Casey clutched her stuffed wolf and looked up at me with absolute adoration.
"Best day ever," she declared. "Even with the hospital part."
Palisade laughed. It was a full, unguarded sound I'd rarely heard since we reconnected. That laugh made her tilt her head back slightly and crinkle the corners of her eyes.
My chest felt tight, but not in the angry way I was used to. This was different.
Unfamiliar.
My chest clenched, and I still didn't understand the reason behind it when I saw both Casey and Palisade happy.
Palisade
That afternoon, as we walked through the empty corridors of the Shadow Wolves arena, Casey's hand tightened in mine.
"Mom, are you sure this is okay?" she asked quietly, her voice small in the vast hallway. "What if… what if I get scared?"
I stopped and crouched down to her level, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then we leave. No pressure, baby. But I think you're braver than you know."
"Uncle Easton said he'd be right there with me," Casey said, as if reminding herself. As if his presence were a talisman against fear.
"He will be. He promised, didn't he?"
Casey nodded, squaring her small shoulders with a determination that made my heart squeeze.
We emerged from the tunnel into the vast arena, and the familiar chill of the ice rink washed over us. Casey's muscles tensed immediately, her grip on my hand turning almost painful. The temperature drop, the smell of ice and Zamboni exhaust, the echo of the space hit her at once.
Maybe this was too soon.
Was the memory of cold water closing over her head, of darkness and panic still too fresh?
But then Easton skated into view, already in full gear minus his helmet, and his face broke into a grin that could light up the entire arena.
"There they are!" His voice echoed across the empty stands, warm and welcoming.
Behind him, about a dozen Shadow Wolves players glided across the ice, casually passing pucks. They weren't in game uniforms, just practice jerseys and casual gear, but the sight still made Casey gasp beside me. The rhythmic sound of skates cutting ice, sticks tapping pucks, players calling out to each other.
These were the sounds of a sport she loved.
"What is all this?" I asked as Easton stopped at the boards in front of us, slightly breathless from skating.
