“Yes,” Calloway says evenly. “She did.”
No denial.
“And we’ll deal with the consequences of that. But don’t confuse that with her not belonging here as a player.”
“What happens now?” Russo asks again.
“Now we move forward. Grant’s back. We rebuild the lines. We play the rest of the season clean. We earn everything back the right way.”
I glance down at my stick. Rebuild. Like the last few weeks didn’t matter.
“We’ve got games left before Christmas,” Calloway continues. “We focus on those.”
He scans the room. “No more distractions.”
“Coach,” Barrett says slowly, “what about her?”
“She’s not part of this team anymore.”
There’s something in his voice. He doesn’t sound angry. Just final.
Calloway claps his hands once.
“Gear up. On the ice in five.”
Meeting over. Just like that.
LEONORA
Markus lights up the screen of my phone. I nearly let it ring out before I finally answer.
“Hi, Markus.”
“Holy shit, Leonora.”
I close my eyes.
“I suggested you transfer to a college with a women’s team,” his voice halfway between disbelief and laughter. “Not impersonate a guy and take over an entire men’s program.”
Despite everything, I laugh. It’s a short, slightly hysterical sound that escapes before I can stop it.
“Yeah,” I say. “That wasn’t exactly the plan.”
“Not the plan?” he repeats. “Leo, you tried out and - what - justdecidedto become their mystery player?”
“I didn’t want to become a mystery,” I mutter. “That part just… happened.”
He laughs properly now.
“You’ve completely lost your mind,” he says. “Do you know that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Just checking.”
I sink down onto the edge of my bed, pressing my free hand against my forehead.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “This won’t… affect you, will it?”
