(Danica)
The rink was quieter than usual during the closed-door session — lights dimmed, no coaches, no outsiders, just the core group Caleb trusted most. Brooks watched from the bench, shoulder heavily taped, his eyes sharp as he studied every movement.
Caleb skated to center ice, voice low but carrying. “This is the real version. The one no one outside this circle sees until Game 6. Run it clean.”
He positioned me carefully in the formation. “You’re the joker, Danica. Float between lines. Draw their attention. Create chaos in the neutral zone. When they commit to containing you, that’s when the second wave hits from the opposite side. Tank and Liam exploit the space you open. We make them pay for thinking they can ignore you.”
We drilled it repeatedly. I skated as the floating threat
