“Are you saying Houston was a mistake?”
Houston. Peyton’s article. Finn’s blood. The version of myself I have been trying to outrun since.
I swallow the first answer.
“I’m saying you learn or you repeat yourself.”
For the first time, my eyes cut to Peyton.
She is already looking at me.
The media coordinator calls two more questions. I answer them evenly. No cracks. No heat they can use.
When it ends, I stand and leave without looking back again.
In the hall, Evan falls into step beside me.
“Finn’s awake,” Evan says. “Pissed about the backboard. Asked if he looked heroic.”
My chest loosens so fast it hurts.
“Good.”
“Also asked if we won.”
“Tell him yes.”
“Already did.” Evan’s shoulder bumps mine, deliberate and brief. “You were right.”
Evan makes a face. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You absolutely would. Captain face ruins everything.”
Evan peels off toward the training room.
I start to follow, but Silas waits near the media exit with Jennifer beside him and a tablet in her hand.
“Strong answer at the table,” Silas says.
I stop. “Finn’s in medical.”
“We know. Maren says he’s responsive. We’re monitoring.”
Jennifer turns the tablet slightly. A paused clip shows me leaning into the microphone, expression steady. “The quote is already moving. ‘Winning the game does.’ We can build around that.”
I stare at the screen. Ten minutes ago Finn was carried off the ice on a backboard. Already, my answer has become material.
“Don’t,” I say.
Jennifer blinks. “Don’t what?”
“Build around it tonight.”
Silas’s face cools. “Ryan—”
“Let the medical update come first. Let Finn call his family. Let the team breathe for five damn minutes before you turn it into proof of culture.”
