Russo looks over. “You didn’t like what you saw?”
Mercer shrugs. “Sure, he’s got hands. I’ll give him that. But did you see his size?”
I know exactly what he means.
“This isn’t intramurals,” Mercer continues. “You think he’s going to last out there when teams see his size and take advantage of it?”
Russo opens his mouth to argue, but Mercer beats him to it.
“First proper hit and he’s getting flattened.”
A couple of guys nearby chuckle.
I don’t laugh.
Because, annoyingly, Mercer isn’t entirely wrong.
Up close, the new guy had looked smaller than most of the roster. Skill is one thing. But college hockey is fast and physical, and people don’t exactly hold back.
“Yeah,” I agree. “But he’s still the best we had.”
Mercer just shakes his head. “Let’s see how he handles getting hit before you sound so sure of that.”
8
LEONORA
You remind me of him.
I hear Tara’s words again and again as I walk across campus that afternoon, the sentence echoing in the quiet spaces between everything else.
By the time evening rolls around, I’m in my car, heading towards home. It’s only thirty minutes away.
That was one of the reasons I chose Blackwood College in the first place, even if I didn’t say it out loud at the time. I just didn’t want to be far from Mum.
The drive is familiar. I could probably do it blindfolded by now - past the small grocery store near campus, out onto the road that curves through the low fields, then the long stretch of trees before the town appears.
I pull into the driveway. Dad’s old truck is gone but the space where it used to sit is just as protected as if he were due home any moment.
I let myself in through the front door.
“Mom?”
“In the kitchen!”
The smell hits me immediately.
Chicken and stuffing. Real stuffing.
The kind she makes from scratch that somehow tastes better than anything else on earth.
I step into the kitchen, and she turns from what she’s doing, her face lighting up when she sees me.
“Well, look who remembered she has a home.”
“I come home all the time.”
“You came last month.”
