A reporter in the front row immediately raised his hand. June ignored him and continued.
“Jace Hartley suffered injuries during our game against Boston three weeks ago. He's been undergoing intensiverehabilitation under the supervision of our medical staff and is progressing well. Coach Sutherland provided additional support during his recovery period, as any good coach would. We don't comment on speculation or rumors, and we ask that you respect our team's privacy as we prepare for qualifiers.” She paused. “Questions?”
Every hand in the room shot up.
June pointed to a woman in the third row. “Yes.”
“Sarah Mitchell, Toronto Sports Network. The photos published this morning show Coach Sutherland and Jace Hartley in what appears to be an intimate setting at a private cabin. Can you explain the nature of their relationship?”
June's voice didn't waver. “As I stated, Coach Sutherland provided support during Jace's recovery. The photos were taken without consent and present an incomplete narrative. Next question.”
Another reporter, male, didn't wait to be called. “Is it true the coach drove to an undisclosed location for over a week without informing team management?”
“Coach Sutherland took brief personal time to assist with a player's mental health during a difficult recovery period. He remained in communication with assistant coaches throughout. Next.”
“Did management approve this... assistance?”
“We support our coaching staff in making decisions that benefit player welfare.” June's voice had gone colder. “Next question.”
A reporter near the back stood up. “Jace, how do you respond to allegations that Coach Sutherland has been showing you favoritism?”
The room went quiet. Every eye turned to Jace. I felt him tense beside me, felt the weight of the question land on him likea physical blow. June started to cut in, but Jace leaned forward to his microphone.
“Coach Sutherland benched me for three weeks to protect my health.” His voice was steady, controlled. “That's not favoritism. That's doing his job.”
“But the photos suggest?—”
“The photos suggest I had someone who cared enough to make sure I was okay when I was spiraling.” Jace's jaw was tight. “Coach Sutherland has never compromised his professional judgment. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
I wanted to reach over and squeeze his hand under the table. Wanted to tell him he didn't have to defend me, that I could take the hits. But I couldn't move, couldn't react, couldn't do anything except sit there and let him fight this battle alone.
Another reporter jumped in. “Coach Sutherland, are you in a romantic relationship with your player?”
The question hit like a punch. I felt my pulse spike, felt June's hand land on my forearm under the table in warning. Don't react. Don't give them anything.
“No comment,” I said. My voice came out flat, dead.
“That's not a denial.”
“It's exactly what I said. No comment.” I kept my face neutral, kept my eyes forward. “Next question.”
“Is Jace Hartley the reason you're making roster decisions that some analysts say prioritize his return over team success?”
My jaw ticked. I felt anger rise hot and fast in my chest, but I swallowed it down. “My roster decisions are based on medical advice, team strategy, and what gives us the best chance to win. Hartley plays when he's cleared. Not before.”
“But you personally drove him to a private cabin?—”
“To prevent a mental health crisis. Because he's a human being who was struggling, and I gave a shit. Next question.”
June squeezed my arm harder. Warning. I was losing control and she knew it.
A younger reporter near the front spoke up. “There are rumors that the league is investigating potential ethics violations. Can you comment?”
“We have no official notice of any investigation,” June said smoothly. “And we're confident that any review would show Coach Sutherland acted appropriately. This press conference is over. Thank you.”
She stood before anyone could throw another grenade. I followed her lead, and Jace did the same. Reporters shouted questions as we filed out but we kept walking.
The hallway outside felt like a release valve. I could finally breathe.
