She wassacrificing herself.
Forme.
Gideon’s phone buzzed against the desk. He didn’t pick it up. Just stared at the screen, his face a mask of horror and calculation. "She’s crucifying herself," he muttered. "She’shandingthem the knife."
Paige made a choked sound. "She’s handingherselfthe knife."
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My hands were fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw blood.
Billie adjusted the phone, just slightly. The movement was soher—practical, no-nonsense, even now. Even when the world was circling like sharks.
"I came to Crestwood to play hockey," she said. "Not to be someone’s scandal. Not to be someone’s victim. And definitely not to be someone’s secret."
A pause. The cameras loved it.
"Coach Shaw and I crossed a line. That’s on us. But let’s be clear—" Her voice dropped, just a little. Just enough to make every single person in that room lean forward. "I’m not ashamed."
The screen cut to a close-up. Her jaw set. Her lips pressed into a line so tight it hurt to look at.
"And if you’re more interested in who I’m sleeping with than how I’m playing? Maybe you’re the problem."
Silence.
Then—chaos.
The feed cut to black.
Gideon exhaled, long and slow, like he’d been holding his breath for hours. "She just ended her career."
Paige’s voice was thin. "She just endedherself."
I turned away from the screen.
My hands were shaking.
I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair; the leather creaking under my grip. Gideon didn’t try to stop me. Didn’t say a word.
The door hit the wall when I shoved it open.
Paige called after me—"Calder, wait?—"
“You’re making a mistake,” Gideon said.
“I don’t give a shit what you think.”
“Calder—”
“I said no.”
He didn’t back down. Just stood there, jaw working, like he was chewing on the words before he spit them out. “Youloveher.”
I bared my teeth. “Ifucking told you that.”
A beat.
Gideon exhaled, sharp and frustrated. “So. If I fire you?—”
“I could give two shits.”
