Page 10 of Ice Melts

“Exactly,” Jess said, her tone brisk. “I want stories that make people stop scrolling. Stories that get people talking. And we all know where those stories come from.”

She turned to Sarah, and the weight of her gaze was like a spotlight.

“Hockey,” Jess said. “You’ve been sitting on the sidelines, Cooper. You’ve got the connections, the access. You’ve been giving us these tame little articles, but I know there’s more out there. The real dirt. The stories that will blow the lid off this whole ‘golden boy athlete’ narrative.”

Sarah’s throat felt dry. “I’ve been covering the stories that matter,” she said carefully.

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Have you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been holding back. The coaches might be scrambling to clean up their players’ messes, but that’s not enough. The public deserves to know the truth.”

“Which truth?” Sarah asked, her voice sharper than she intended. “That some players make bad choices? That they’re human?”

Jess’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get defensive, Cooper. This isn’t about protecting anyone’s feelings. This is about accountability. If these guys are out there partying, using drugs, acting like they’re untouchable, then we have a responsibility to expose that.”

“And ruin their lives in the process?” Sarah shot back.

Jess leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. “If their lives are ruined, that’s on them, not us. They made the choices. We’re just reporting the facts.”

Sarah wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find the words. Jess wasn’t wrong—at least, not entirely. But it still didn’t sit right with her. Yesterday she’d have agreed one hundred percent. But after spending time with Travis…It felt like more of a betrayal than before.

“I want a new hockey story on my desk by the end of the week,” Jess said, her tone final. “Something big. No more threats, no more tiptoeing around the truth. I want the story.”

The room was silent as the team filed out, the tension palpable. Sarah stayed behind, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“Jess,” she said, her voice low.

Jess looked up, her expression softening slightly. “I know you don’t like this, Sarah. But this is the job. It’s what we do.”

Sarah hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll get you the story.”

Jess smiled, satisfied. “I knew I could count on you.”

As Sarah walked back to her desk, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She’d spent years building her reputation as a hard-hitting journalist, someone who wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions. But this felt different.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to see a text from Travis.

Just checking in. How’s work?

She stared at the message, her chest tightening.

She didn’t reply.

At her desk, Sarah stared at her computer screen, her thoughts spiraling. The logical part of her knew Jess was right—there were stories out there, stories that needed to be told. But the human part of her couldn’t shake the image of Travis,couldn’t ignore the voice in her head telling her that this wasn’t who she wanted to be.

Danielle appeared at her side, her expression curious. “You okay?”

Sarah hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Danielle leaned against the desk. “Look, I know Jess can be intense, but she’s not wrong. People eat this stuff up. And if you don’t write it, someone else will.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Sarah stared at her toes, not really knowing how she wanted to move forward.

“No,” Danielle shrugged. “But it’s the reality we’re living in. You just have to decide if you’re okay with it.”

Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. “What if I’m not?”

Danielle didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

By the end of the day, Sarah felt like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She gathered her things and headed out, her mind still racing.

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