The arena stood silent and dark, save for the dim emergency lights reflecting off the ice. At 11:58 PM, Emma swiped her access card and slipped inside. The hum of the cooling system was the only sound.
After their humiliating pre-season loss to Philadelphia—six to one—she couldn't sleep. The team had played like strangers, with Nathan isolated on the ice and the usual smooth Blades passing game completely disintegrated.
Emma needed to clear her head. Late-night skating was her secret remedy, a tradition she'd maintained since college. The empty rink offered peace no office or home ever could.
She flicked on the minimum lights and froze. The ice wasn't empty.
A solitary figure carved smooth, powerful arcs across the surface. Nathan Stevenson moved with a grace that seemed impossible for
