Page 115 of Goalie's Obsession

My hand flies to my mouth.

"Lucy." Connor's voice is soft beside me, intimate despite the vastness of the arena spread before us. "We never wanted to shut you out. This is not about erasing the mistakes, butowningthem. It's about rewriting what comes next. Not just for Ethan, but for you too."

I can't tear my eyes from the scene below. A young girl in pigtails takes a shot, and Blake dramatically dives the wrong way, making her squeal with delight when the puck slides across the line.

"I wanted to do one thing right," Ethan adds, his voice rough with emotion. "And this is my way of giving back."

My fingers press against the cool glass, steadying myself as the reality washes over me in gentle waves.

Connor did this. For me. For us.

Not to protect me from the truth, but to protect my peace while he built something beautiful from the ashes of our family's mistakes.

I watch another child score, arms raised in victory, and something inside my chest begins to unfurl - tender and warm and achingly sweet.

Connor tiptoes up to my side like a cat stalking it's prey, and presses a quick kiss to my temple before he squeezes my hand.

"I've got to go suit up. The kids are expecting a real hockey player, not just the old guys we dragged out of retirement."

His eyes hold mine for a moment, a silent promise passing between us before he disappears down the corridor, leaving me alone with Ethan.

I turn to look at my brother. The shadows under his eyes have faded in a matter of days. He's still too thin, but there's something different about the way he's holding himself. He's less hunched, like he's finally stopped waiting for the sky to fall.

"So," I say, leaning against the railing. "How did the league meeting go? Am I going to be looking at you through steel bars next time?"

Ethan's fingers tap nervously against his thigh. "I owned everything, Luce. Every bet, every lie, every dollar."

He takes a deep breath.

“They weren’t happy. I’ve got a formal warning on record, a hefty fine coming, and I’m required to complete community outreach. They’re launching an internal review, but because I came forward voluntarily, and because I gave them everything, they’ve agreed not to pursue formal charges."

"But I'm attending support groups now. Three times a week. And I'm entering a voluntary rehab program next month."

My heart squeezes. "And?"

He gestures to the ice before turning to me, his eyes clear for the first time in months.

"Yes. Most importantly… you and Connor? The Icehawks roster? You're cleared of all suspicion. They know you weren't involved in my mess."

Something hot and tight builds behind my eyes.

Relief, pride, guilt—all of it swirling together until I can barely breathe.

"You really did it," I say softly.

Ethan's lips curve into a faint smile. "It's a start. I almost lost everything. You. Connor. The Icehawks. And somehow… I didn’t."

He takes a deep breath and smiles down at the ice.

"That’s not luck, Luce. That’s a second chance. I’m not wasting it. That's what tonight is about. Raising awareness. Getting people to reach out before it's too late."

I stare at my brother, this person who I've known my entire life but who feels brand new standing before me. He's not just my brother again. He's trying to be the version of him I always believed in.

And Connor never stopped believing in either of us.

From my spot near the glass, I watch the chaos unfold on the ice.

Eli Thompson, looking more like a lumberjack than a hockey legend in his vintage jersey, crashes into Blake with all the grace of a dancing bear. They both tumble, laughing as they hit the ice.

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