“I brought a witness,” I correct.
“You think this changes anything?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say simply.
“No one is suspending me over a shoulder injury.”
“No,” Leo agrees calmly.“But sponsors do reconsider contracts when violence becomes a narrative problem.”
Silence stretches between them.
“And league discipline committees do reconsider aggressive play patterns when there is a documented escalation history attached to them,” Leo continues.
James’s jaw tightens.
“You’re bluffing.”
“I don’t bluff,” Leo says.
For the first time since I arrived, James looks uncertain. Not afraid. But uncertain. And somehow that feels bigger.
“I didn’t come here to threaten you,” I say quietly.
“Then why are you here?”
“I came to end this.”
“There’s nothing to end,” he replies.
“Yes,” I say.“There is.”
I step closer before I lose my nerve.
“You don’t get to be part of my life anymore,” I continue, my voice steadier than I expected it to be.“Not through hockey. Not through threats. Not through Blake. Not through my brother. Not through anything.”
He watches me carefully.
“You think this is about Blake?”
“I know it is,” I answer.
“You always made everything personal.”
“You always made everything controlled,” I correct.
His expression shifts slightly. Just slightly. Enough that I know I hit something real.
“You don’t get to punish people because I left,” I continue.
“I didn’t punish anyone.”
“You tried to.”
“That’s not how the game works.”
“That’s exactly how you work,” I say.
The hallway feels quieter than before. Or maybe I just stopped hearing everything else.
