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Ellie had taped my hip this morning, her hands quick and professional, not meeting my eyes more than necessary. She’d used exactly the right tension, supporting the joint without restricting movement.

“Let’s see how this goes,” she’d said as she straightened and stepped back. “I can’t sign off on your case until you’re ready.”

“I understand.”

She left, and I laced my skates, trying to remember what this used to feel like.

Tolrek dropped onto the bench beside me. “You’ve got this.”

“Yeah.”

“She knows what she’s doing.”

I looked up. “What?”

“Doc. She wouldn’t clear you for this if you weren’t ready.”

Right. That’s what he meant.

I finished and stood, testing my weight. The hip held even as I made my way up the ramp and stopped at the top. The ice stretched ahead of me, looking the same as it always did. The boards gleamed purple under the overhead lights. I stepped out onto the ice and everything felt right.

My first stride was tentative, like my body had forgotten how to do this. The second felt better.

By the third, muscle memory took over, and I was skating.

Ellie stood at the boards with her tablet, wearing my team hoodie. She’d secured her hair in a tight bun that made my fingers itch to pull it loose. I couldn’t read the expression on her face.

Coach Beecham stood beside her, along with Patty and the assistant coaches. All of them watching.

“Easy laps first,” Ellie called out. “Just get your legs under you.”

I did as instructed, skating slow laps around the rink. The hip felt good. Stable. The tape was doing its job.

“Crossovers,” she said.

I picked up speed, cutting around the corners. The hip pulled slightly but held.

“Backward skating,” she said after a few laps.

That was harder. My hip protested the angle with a dull ache. It hurt, but I could play through it.

“Quick starts.”

I pushed off hard from a standstill, the explosive movement sending a sharp reminder through my hip that it was still healing. But it didn’t give out or buckle.

“Hard stops.”

I built up speed, preparing for the stop that would test everything.

When I hit it, my hip pulled, though it wasn’t a re-injury. Just a reminder that I wasn’t quite there yet.

I slowed, testing it some more.

Ellie waved. “Off the ice, Kedish.”

I skated to the boards, coming to a stop in front of her. “Why stop? It feels good.”

“Skating felt good, or your ego did?”