Mercer turns toward him. “With an imposter.”
Chen doesn’t raise his voice. “It doesn’t change how she plays.”
That stops a few people.
Barrett leans forward on the bench, brow furrowed.
“Wait,” he says, almost disbelieving. “So you don’t care Shaw’s a girl? Like… an actual girl?”
Barrett shakes his head slowly. “That’s… insane. She never belonged on this team.”
Russo is still sitting, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely in front of him. Thinking.
He finally looks up. “What happens now?”
The question hangs there.
No one answers because no one knows.
Calloway doesn’t either. I wonder if his job is at risk.
There’s a knock at the door.
The room goes still again.
“Come in,” Calloway answers.
The door opens.
And she walks in.
Her hair is tied back and her face is pale but steady. There’s something in her expression - fear, yeah, but also somethingharder underneath it.
She closes the door behind her.
And for a second, no one breathes.
These are the guys who’ve hit her, passed to her, laughed with her. Who’ve stood shoulder to shoulder with her on the ice for weeks.
And she’s been lying to all of them.
Her gaze moves across the room.
She looks at everyone.
“My name is Leonora Shaw.”
Her voice is steady.
“Markus Shaw is my brother,” she continues. “My father - David Shaw - coached this team for twelve years.”
A ripple moves through the room.
Recognition.
Mercer lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, this is rich.”
She doesn’t even look at him.
