Page 107 of Salute, To Bravery
But I saw it. And I can’t let her disappear into the quiet alone.
A few minutes later, I slip out of the suite under the guise of needing air. Jane catches my eye and nods. No words necessary.
The hallway beyond the players’ lounge is cooler, quieter. The cheers of the game now sound distant and soft, like waves breaking against a closed door. I follow the noise—barely a murmur—until I round a corner and spot them. Evan’s leaning against the wall, not crowding her, just… present. “I know people say the wrong things,” he’s saying, voice low and careful, “especially when they don’t know what else to say—”
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SISTER!” The words crack like a gunshot behind me. I turn sharply—Patrick is storming down the hallway, face flushed, eyes locked on Evan like he’s the only thing in the world.
Evan straightens, hands out slightly, not defensive but steady. “We were just talking.”
“Not after what you did to her.” Patrick’s voice is sharp, almost wild. He stalks toward Evan like he’s forgotten where they are—or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“Patrick,” I say, moving to intercept, “rein it in.”I really should have rolled over his feet.
He jerks out of my reach. “He doesn’t get to look at her like that. You took everything from her!”
“You have no idea what you’re even talking about!” Rei’s voice cracks like a whip through the space, raw and shaking. She steps between them before he gets too close—body tense, hands balled into fists.
Patrick glares at her, confused, angry, unraveling. “He hurt you!”
Rei doesn’t flinch. “Touch him over something you don’t understand,” she says, voice low and dangerous, “and I swear to all that is holy, we will be so fucking done.”
“Rei—he is—”
“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.”
Evan starts to speak, his hand lifting gently, like he’s going to rest it on her shoulder. “Rei, I don’t need—”
That’s all it takes.
Patrick lunges forward like a dam breaking.
But he doesn’t make it.
Rei moves fast, dropping her shoulder and taking him to the ground with a sharp, clean takedown. The kind of move you don’t forget how to do, no matter how long it’s been since training. The air leaves him in a grunt as he hits the concrete hard.
“Holy shit, Dad!” Bridget shouts from behind us.
“Language,” Jane hisses instinctively, one hand on Bridget’s shoulder, the other hovering like she wants to stop it—but can’t. Instead ushering the kids back into the room.
No one moves. No one breathes.
Rei’s on top of Patrick, fist drawn back—but Evan is already there, sliding in beside her. “Rei—enough,” he says, arms gentlycircling around her, pulling her back just enough to stop the next blow.
She lets him.
Just like that, her whole frame shakes, and for the first time, I can see it—the heartbreak, the fury, the exhaustion she’s been carrying for too long. She’s not crying. She’s just breaking in silence.
Patrick groans from the ground, stunned more than hurt.
Jane turns to me, helpless. “What the hell was that?”
I don’t have an answer. Not one that would make any of this better.
“Evan,” she says, voice steely, “you better kick his ass out on that ice tonight.”
Evan meets my eyes, gives a curt nod, then turns back to Rei. His hand finds her shoulder—not possessive, not performative, just steady. “You good?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Taking breaths before shrugging. “I will be.”
