Cole's POV
The rink is quiet, too quiet.
Cold air moves across the ice, and the only sound is the steady hum of the cooling system and the echo of the puck blades gliding as Finn makes another circle, showing off for no reason. Nolan leans lazily against the boards, helmet off, grin sharp as always.
Knox stands a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes on nothing in particular.
I’m sitting on the bench, watching them, feeling the cold seep into my hands through the gloves. It’s routine here, the sound, the motion, the stillness that hides everything unspoken.
But today, something is off.
We all feel it.
The air has that kind of weight that doesn’t belong to the rink — something tight, uneasy. It’s her. Reese. Or maybe it’s what happened in her room last night.
Knox had gone there to c
