Nothing about the way she plays has changed.
Only what I know.
Which means my job stays the same.
Play the game.
Protect the line.
And stop overthinking.
Northern State pushes harder in the second period.
Their forwards are quick through the neutral zone and Chen has to make two big saves in the first few minutes.
Mercer levels one of their wingers near the boards and the crowd roars approval.
“Welcome to Showcase,” he mutters.
I float beside Shaw we skate back toward center.
“You good?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Play the game, Blake.”
I grin despite myself.
“Bossy.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes ahead toward the faceoff circle.
And just like that we’re back in motion again.
The scout sits somewhere up in the stands.
The tournament is still wide open.
And for the first time all morning, the weird tension in my chest eases.
Because whatever else is going on whatever secrets we still have to untangle - on the ice we’re still the same line we’ve been for weeks.
And we’re finally playing the kind of hockey that might actually carry us into Sunday’s final.
LEONORA
We win the first game of the day easily enough.
Too easily, almost. The kind of game where everything goes our way and the score stretches out early.
But Showcase weekends don’t leave much room to breathe.
By the time the second game rolls around my body has already started to feel it.
The cut beneath my collarbone throbs in a slow, steady rhythm under the bandage. It’s a dull pulse that reminds me every time I turn my shoulder that something under the tapeis still healing.
