"I wasn't used to being the pep talker."
The side door to Ingalls protested as Silver pulled it open, metal hinges stiff from the cold. She'd walked past twice before finally going in, telling herself she was just checking if he was still there. But watching through the glass had made the decision for her.
Inside, the rink held that particular late-night quiet, when the zamboni had finished its last pass and the overhead lights dimmed to half power. The ice looked perfect, untouched, like fresh paper waiting for someone to write on it.
Eli hadn't moved from where she'd seen him through the window. He sat on the home bench, practice jersey dark with sweat even though training had ended over an hour ago. His helmet rested beside him, stick propped against the boards. One glove on, one off, like he'd started getting ready to leave and then just... stopped.
