The rink always grew quieter once practice ended. The echoes faded first—the crack of pucks against boards, the scrape of skates carving lines into the ice. Then the locker room noise thinned until the building gave way to the steady hum of the refrigeration system beneath the floor.
By the time I stepped outside, dusk cast long shadows through the parking lot.
Mila sat on the low concrete wall near the side entrance, one leg folded beneath her as she waited. The arena’s exterior lights cast a soft glow across the pavement, catching the darker strands of her hair where the wind lifted them from her shoulders.
She looked up the moment the door closed behind me. Something in my chest eased immediately.
“Long practice?” she asked.
“Coach kept us late.” I crossed the lot and stopped in front of her. “You should’ve come inside.” I didn’t love the idea of her waiting out here alone.
“I haven’t been here long.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “So, Coach kept you late, or,” she countered, “you stayed because you didn’t want to leave yet.”
A quiet breath escaped me. She knew me well. “That too.”
She shifted on the wall, making room without my needing to ask. I sat beside her, and our shoulders brushed. The contact steadied me in a way nothing else had managed all day.
For a few minutes, neither of us spoke. The parking lot sat empty except for a few scattered cars and the faint glow from the rink windows behind us.
The air carried the damp scent of the ocean drifting in from a few blocks away.
Mila’s fingers slipped into mine without looking. “Things have been quiet since Lorne was arrested.”
“For the most part.” I ran through what it’d been like at home then decided to loop her in. “I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
I turned my head toward her. “You’re hilarious.”
Her smile softened before fading into something more thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?”
“Since when do you have to ask?”
She drew a slow breath before continuing. “You’ve mentioned Drew taking control of the company. Stabilizing things. Or at least where Lorne was concerned.” Her gaze dropped briefly to our joined hands. “I assumed you’d be irritated.”
“Why?”
“He stepped in to protect King Enterprises.” Her eyes lifted again. “And because it feels as if he’s keeping a lot of things quiet.”
I took a moment before answering. “I’m not angry at him.”
That clearly wasn’t the response she expected. Her brows drew together slightly. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why?”
The question hung between us longer than I expected. The truth was more complicated than anger. I rested my shoulders against the concrete behind us. “Drew spent his whole life trying to survive inside our family,” I began slowly. “People think power makes you strong, but sometimes it just traps you.”
The wind shifted, lifting a loose strand of her hair across her cheek again. I traced my thumb lightly along the edge of her jaw as she looked up at me.
Her eyes never left mine.
“I hear people talk about justice,” I continued quietly. “As if it’s simple. As if the truth shows up and everything suddenly makes sense.” My jaw ticked slightly. “In our family, it never is.”
She studied my face carefully. “And justice for Darren?” Her voice carried none of the hesitation from earlier. “He was murdered,” she continued quietly. “That still matters.”
“Yes,” I answered immediately. “It does.”
