He reaches for my hair - hesitates, checking - then gently pulls it back from my face. His fingers are careful, like he’s handling something fragile.
“Tie it back,” he says. “But leave the helmet. Let them see you.”
“You want me to walk out there without it?”
“I want them to see the player who won this championship. Not the disguise.”
I don’t move. I can’t. The fear is too loud.
He takes my chin gently, tilts my face up.
“You’re the best player I’ve ever shared the ice with. That’syou. And they should know exactly who you are.”
I look at him. At his eyes, dark and certain, like he’s never been more sure of anything.
ZANE
I join the guys in the locker room. Leonora is going to join as soon as she’s ready.
The trophy sits on the table near the center of the room.
No one’s even looking at it.
We just won the final. We should be loud, celebrating, tearing the place apart.
Instead, everyone’s sitting in their gear. Because all anyone can see is her.
Helmet gone. Hair spilling loose.
The moment everything shifted.
The door at the front of the room opens.
Coach Calloway steps in.
His face is unreadable.
That’s worse than if he was angry.
He closes the door behind him and stands there, looking at all of us.
“We need to talk about what happened. I’ve asked Leonora to come and address us. Ultimately, this is a member of this team. We will handle it as such.”
There’s a brief silence.
Then the room explodes.
“I FUCKING KNEW IT.”
Mercer is on his feet, pacing, hands thrown out like he’s been personally vindicated by the universe.
“I told you,” he snaps. “I TOLD YOU something was off. And now what? Now we’re all going down because of it?”
“Calm down,” someone mutters.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Mercer shoots back. “We just played an entire tournament with-”
“With what?” Chen cuts in, quiet but assertive.
