Page 73 of Second Sin

I blink.

“You’re still on the mental health rotation,” he says. “League requires evaluations. Someone has to sign off on your fitness to play.”

“I’ll pay for my own therapist.”

Coach grunts. “Another conflict of interest. You think the league’s gonna let you cherry-pick someone? That’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

He rubs a hand over his jaw, thinks for a second.

“I’ll contact the league wellness liaison. They’ll assign someone neutral. Out-of-market. No ties to the team. You’ll do virtual sessions. Every week. No exceptions.”

“Fine.”

“And you show up,” he adds. “Every damn time. I hear otherwise, you’re benched.”

“Understood.”

Doesn’t matter if I hate it. If it keeps her here, I’ll take every consequence he throws at me.

He lets that hang. Then grabs a flyer from the pile on his desk and tosses it across the table.

Break the Ice: Youth Mental Wellness Night

“Olivia’s helping organize it. Branson’s speaking. So’s Madden. Now you are too.”

I pick it up, scan the date.“You want me to talk?”

“I want you to show up,” Coach says. “Be honest. Be uncomfortable. Do the damn work.”

I hate this kind of shit. Suits and lights. Microphones. People staring, waiting for something raw or redemptive to fall out of my mouth. I’m not built for it. Never have been.

But if she’s behind it, then I’m in.

I fold the paper once. Then again. Slide it into my pocket.

My throat tightens, but I manage, “Thanks, Coach.”

He doesn’t look up. Just grunts.

I push up from the chair and move toward the door, chest tight, heart thudding like I just stepped off the ice in double overtime.

Before I reach it, his voice cuts through.

“One more thing—you’ll need to loop in HR.”

I pause. Nod once.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

Just before I step out, he says, “Don’t screw this up, Wilde.”

I don’t turn around. Just nod again.

But I hear what he’s really saying.

Don’t hurt her.

Don’t be the reason she has to walk away from the thing she loves.

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