SKY’S POV
Two nights before the regular season ended, I sent Amira a number before I’d even decided I needed to.
6
Not a crisis. Not the tightness from the week before. Just an ordinary pregame nerve that used to pass through me unremarkable, the kind every goalie carried before a big one. I used to just sit with that kind of feeling and let it burn off on its own.
Instead, my thumb had already found her name before I’d thought about whether I actually needed to reach for it.
Her reply came within minutes, same as always. Noted. You know what to do with a six. You’ve done it plenty of times.
I read it twice, the reassurance landing exactly the way it always did, and then I set the phone down and noticed something uncomfortable sitting underneath the relief.
I hadn’t tried the brea
