The pain in my ribs had settled into a deep, throbbing ache that matched the pounding of my heart. Kane circled me like a predator who had tasted blood. The scrimmage had become something personal, ugly, and deeply public.
During the next face-off, Kane lined up directly across from me again. His eyes were hollow with something far darker than rivalry.
“You want the full story, Jones?” he snarled just before the whistle. “Lila wasn’t just fast. She was better than most of the boys on that ice. Championship final. Third period. She had the puck behind the net, setting up the game-winner. My sister was flying. Then one of our own defensemen—someone who was supposed to be her teammate—came in late. Elbow up. No puck. Just pure intent. The crack echoed through the whole arena. She dropped li
