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Everything in me went still.

"She doesn't look like him. I noticed that the first time he showed up at the rink with you." He was watching my face now, and the smile hadn't changed, but his eyes had. "You're not originally from here, are you, Janine?"

"Does that have something to do with her skating?"

"I'm just making conversation."

"Let go of my arm."

"She told you to let go."

Alex was standing at the end of the corridor. Hazel was beside him, her hand in his.

The coach's hand dropped from my arm. "Holloway. Just catching up with⁠—"

"Mama!" Hazel ran to me. She grabbed my waist and pressed her face into my jacket. I put my arm around her and held on.

Alex walked down the hallway. He stopped in front of the coach, close enough that Hale had to look up at him.

"After all these years." Alex's voice was quiet. "You still haven't changed."

The coach's smile flickered. "I don't know what you think you saw⁠—"

"I know exactly what I saw." Alex didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. "Remember your place, Lester."

The coach looked at me, then at Hazel pressed against my side, then at Alex. He raised his palms and stood down.

Alex turned to us. His face shifted the second he looked at Hazel, the anger folding away into something gentle.

"Got the helmet?"

I held it up. My hand was shaking.

"Let's go home."

He picked Hazel up with one arm. She wrapped herself around his neck and tucked her face against his shoulder. His other arm came around me, and we walked back down the corridor.

The shortbread sat untouched in front of Hazel. Her hot chocolate was going cold. She hadn't said a word since we sat down.

Alex sat across from me. Nobody spoke for a while.

"What did he want?"

I looked at Hazel. She was stirring her hot chocolate in slow circles, staring into the cup. I kept my voice low.

"He asked if you were Hazel's father. And whether I was originally from here."

Alex's fist closed on the table. He picked up his coffee and took a sip.

"When we first ran into him at the rink, I asked you if you two were friends. You said no."

"I never liked Hale." He set the cup down. "On the ice he was loud, physical, and didn't know what to do when effort wasn't enough. Off the ice he was worse. He was the guy at every party who couldn't keep his hands to himself. A few drinks in and every girl in the room owed him her attention. I didn't want anything to do with him."

I thought about the school play. How many times Alex had apologized for kissing me on stage. How uncomfortable he'd been about crossing a line he thought I hadn't agreed to. I understood now where that came from. He'd spent his whole life watching men like Hale take what they wanted, and he'd built himself into the opposite.

"I'm going to talk to the rink director," he said. "He shouldn't be coaching kids."

"Let's figure out what to do about Hazel first."