The arena had never felt this loud.
Not because of the fans. Not because of the clashing sticks or the thunder of skates slicing across ice. It was loud in the way tension becomes noise — invisible but suffocating, crawling into every conversation and every glance.
Sheila felt it the moment she stepped inside.
The televisions in the lobby were no longer replaying the segment from yesterday, but that didn’t matter. The damage had already settled into the building like frost that refused to melt.
She walked past clusters of staff whispering behind coffee cups. She caught fragments of words as she passed.
“…Finch losing discipline…”
“…analyst distraction…”
“…PR nightmare…”
She kept walking.
Her spine stayed straight. Her pace stayed measured. But inside, she felt every word like spli
