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Rivera gives a measured answer about sticking to the game plan and trusting the officials.

The subtext is clear enough. Unlike some people, Brooklyn kept its head.

The questions keep coming. Variations on the same theme. Did I lose control? Is my rivalry with Kilovac becoming a distraction? Would I do it again?

Hayes fields most of them, deflecting smoothly. When they come to me, I keep my answers short and try not to hand them the headline they're fishing for.

My patience is wearing thin.

“Reznik, some analysts are saying you let Kilovac bait you into exactly the response he wanted. Do you agree?”

“No.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“No.”

Hayes clears his throat. “What Rez means is that emotions run high in competitive games. We're reviewing everything and moving forward.”

Thank you, Captain Diplomacy.

A blogger in the third row raises her hand. “For both teams, do you think tonight's altercation overshadowed the actual hockey?”

Before anyone can answer, a reporter near the back glances down at his phone. His expression changes. He looks up, scans the room, then leans toward the person beside him and whispers something.

Another phone lights up. Then another.

The woman from League Media Relations checks her own device, her expression tightening.

“Is there a question?” Hayes prompts, still looking toward the blogger.

But nobody's paying attention to her anymore. Reporters are checking their screens, exchanging uneasy looks as whispers spread through the room.

Brayden moves toward the league representative, his phone already in his hand.

“What's happening?” someone asks.

A reporter near the front stares at his screen. “Breaking alert. Something about violence inside the arena.”

The room erupts.

Everyone reaches for their phones. Questions fly from one side of the room to the other. Camera operators glance down at their own screens, struggling to keep their equipment trained on the table while the story unfolds around them.

Hayes and I exchange a look.

“What kind of violence?” another reporter demands.

Nobody has an answer. Just alerts. Fragments. Not enough information to tell us what the hell is happening.

Smith and Rivera get to their feet and speak urgently to someone off to the side.

The league representative raises a hand. “We're going to pause for a moment while we get more information.”

Nobody listens.

The questions have stopped being about hockey. Every reporter in the room is trying to find out what's happening somewhere else in this building.

CHAPTER 3