"Please. Herbal, if you have it."
Sienna put the kettle on. She pulled off her shoes and made two cups of peppermint tea while Helen scrolled through an article on her phone. The apartment was quiet except for the kettle's building hiss and the breeze through the cracked bedroom window.
She brought the cups to the living room and handed Helen hers before sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa. Helen took a sip and studied Sienna over the rim.
"Long day," Helen said. "How's the player? The one who went down."
"Elise Moreno. Partial labral tear. Six to eight weeks of rehab, minimum." Sienna cradled her mug in both hands and took a sip. Peppermint, sharp and clean. The heat felt good. Grounding. "I drove her to the hospital for the MRI and then took her home."
"That's above and beyond."
Sienna kept her eyes on the tea. "She's a team member who needed support."
Helen made a sound that was not quite agreement and not quite disagreement. She had a gift for non-committal noises that somehow conveyed more than entire sentences.
They talked about Phoenix Ridge. The PWHL season, now in its second year, was finding its rhythm, and the Valkyries were part of that. Wins were coming more regularly. The crowds were growing. The media coverage had shifted from curiosity to genuine investment, and the momentum was unlike anything Sienna had experienced before in her career.
"The younger players are doing well," Helen said, tucking her legs beneath her on the sofa. "I've been seeing a few of them for performance anxiety, but it's the normal stuff. First-season nerves. Adjustment to the travel schedule. One of them is homesick, which we're working through."
"Rowan?"
"I can't say. But she's fine." Helen's eyes crinkled. "How's the injury load?"
Sienna wrapped her hands around the mug. "Lighter than I expected. The pre-season conditioning programme paid off. I've had some minor soft tissue stuff, a couple of impact injuries, and now Elise." She paused over the name, then pushed past it. "The nutrition protocol has been going well. I've got them all on individualised plans and the compliance has been better than I hoped."
"You sound surprised."
"I'm used to athletes who ignore their nutrition plans and eat takeaway at midnight."
Helen's mouth curved. "These athletes eat takeaway at midnight too. They're just more polite about lying to you."
A smile tugged at Sienna's mouth. Helen had a way of deflating her professional earnestness without making her feel stupid. It was a rare quality. Most people either indulged it or ignored it. Helen gently punctured it and then offered tea.
The conversation drifted to Mara's coaching style, which was intense but fair, and to Astoria's plans for a training facility upgrade that kept getting delayed by planning permissions. Helen mentioned that she'd had dinner with Mara and Lex the previous week, and Sienna asked how they were doing, and the conversation was comfortable and exactly what Sienna usually enjoyed.
Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
Sienna's eyes flicked to it. Helen was mid-sentence about a mindfulness programme she wanted to pilot with the squad, and Sienna nodded and said "that sounds great" and then excused herself to check the message.
It was from Elise.
Hey Doc. Just wanted to say thank you for everything. The hospital, the eggs, the ride home. You didn't have to do any of that. I really appreciate it.
Her chest flushed hot. She stared at the screen, reading the words twice, three times, and the heat spread upward into her cheeks. A text. A simple, polite thank-you text. There was no reason for it to make her pulse quicken.
"Everything okay?" Helen's voice floated from the living room.
Sienna locked the screen and walked back to her chair. "Fine. Just a player thanking me."
Helen tilted her head. "Which player?"
"Elise."
She said the name and immediately regretted it, because Helen's eyebrows rose by exactly the millimetres required to convey maximum interest without saying a word. It was a masterclass in therapeutic non-verbal communication, and Sienna wanted to throw a cushion at her.
"What?" Sienna said.
Helen raised her hands. "I didn't say anything."
