I can’t feel my legs.
Not in the good, adrenaline-pumped way. More like the burning, cramping, gonna-fall-over-any-second kind. My right hip throbs with every stride, like it’s screaming at me to stop. But I don’t. I skate faster, harder, meaner.
Because George is still out there.
And I can’t let him see me break.
I shoot one more puck at the goal, miss wide, and growl under my breath. It’s like the pain in my leg is messing with my whole body now. My balance is off. My breathing’s shallow. Every nerve feels like it’s twitching.
But my head... my head is worse.
I can’t stop hearing George and Coach. That quiet conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear.
“She thinks he was a hero.”
“She doesn’t know the whole truth.”
“That’s not your story to tell.”
I slam my stick against the boards
