"We don't go to her," I say. "We bring her to us."
Theo's eyes move to me. Silas waits.
"Give me a day."
The team gathers in the locker room, gear half-on, rain-soaked and restless. Coach Crick walks in, clapping once, twice, the way he does when he wants everyone sharp.
"As you've likely heard by now, Cody Ravenshaw was attacked near the edge of campus two days ago. The police are treating this seriously. If anyone has information, come forward." He pauses. "Cody will not be returning in the immediate future, but his spot will be here when he's ready. In the meantime, that position goes to Silas."
He pats Silas on the back.
Silas's eyes sweep the room in quiet satisfaction. I give him nothing — just a single nod. He knows what it means.
A first-year raises his hand. "What happened to him exactly?"
"An unfortunate event," Coach says. "Details are limited."
"Is he alive?" Isaac asks.
"Yes."
"Can we visit?"
Coach straightens. "He's in a coma. No visitors at this time."
A few gasps. Someone mutters something I don't catch.
Coach wipes his mouth, recalibrates. "I'll give anyone a pass who needs the day. This is hard news. But the reality is we're playing UCLA again this weekend. After the hit Theo took—"
"I'm fine, Coach," Theo says. "I can play."
Coach studies his arm briefly. "Broken?"
"No."
A beat. "All right. We're winning this one. For Cody?" He scans the room.
A few murmurs.
"I can't hear you."
"For Cody!" the room echoes.
I watch the faces around me. Genuine grief on some of them. Obligation on others. I don't judge either. People perform loyalty because it's required, and sometimes they even mean it. The ones who mean it are the easiest to predict.
Cody never saw any of this coming. That's what happens when you mistake admiration for loyalty. He looked at this locker room and saw brothers. He should have been counting exits.
Coach turns and walks out.
I stand, clapping once to cut through the noise. "You heard him. Whatever happens outside this rink stays outside it. We're not pussies. He's not dead. We work." I look around. "Gear up."
The team responds. That's the thing about momentum — you have to point it in the right direction.
On the ice, Silas runs the center position like it was always his. Because it was, Cody got that spot through proximity to power, not because he earned it over Silas. Talent should outweigh access. That's the only meritocracy I believe in.
I skate up behind Theo, close enough to be heard under the noise of practice. "Take it easy today. We need you sharp this weekend, not broken."
He hits me with his stick.
