79. Coach Was Right

Alec had dodged every question, brushing off the concern with a flimsy excuse about his knee.

I wanted to press, but we had a game to focus on. Whatever was going on with him would have to wait, though the unease gnawed at me.

Stepping into the rink, the cold bit through my jacket, jolting me awake better than coffee ever could.

The place buzzed with players warming up and coaches barking orders.

But something felt off.

The usual pre-game chaos had a different edge, an anxiety that hadn't existed before.

I felt like I was an outsider watching from afar.

Alec was already on the ice, skating like he had something to prove. Every move was sharp, almost reckless, like he was trying to outrun whatever haunted him.

Kris caught my eye across the rink, but instead of concern, his expression was blank, almost dismissive. This game was critical not just for the team but for Alec. If something snapped, there'd be no hiding it.

I joined the team, shoving thoughts of Alec's