Chase
The conference room felt colder than the rink.
I sat at one end of the long table with Coach Reynolds on my left and my manager, Dean Parker, on my right. Across from us were the team’s general manager, legal adviser, head of security, and two representatives from the league’s disciplinary committee who had joined through a video call.
Nobody looked pleased.
A large screen on the wall showed a frozen image from the hallway outside the players’ tunnel. Tyler stood near Allie and Mia. His teammates were behind him. I was visible at the far end of the corridor, already moving toward them.
The footage had no sound.
That was the problem.
It showed Tyler blocking the hallway.
It showed me placing myself between him and Allie.
It showed me grabbing his shirt.
Then it showed the pu
