The arena had never felt this loud before.
Not because of the players shouting or the sharp scrape of skates slicing across the ice. Not because of Coach Rivera barking orders from the sidelines or the trainers rushing between benches with equipment bags slung over their shoulders.
It felt loud because Atticus Finch was missing.
Sheila didn’t expect his absence to change the rhythm of the rink so drastically, but it did. The energy was uneven, like a song missing its strongest instrument. The team pushed through drills, but their precision was slightly off. Their timing was slower. Their aggression dulled.
Sheila noticed every detail.
It was her job to notice.
She stood at her usual position near the glass, pen moving steadily across her clipboard. She tracked recovery intervals, rea
