"This time I didn't flinch."
Carroway's parting shot had followed Silver off the ice like a shadow she couldn't shake. The walk from the rink barrier to the locker room felt longer than usual, her bag weighing heavy on her shoulder while whispered conversations tracked her movement through the building. But something had shifted during those brutal minutes on the ice, watching rivals circle and Carroway deliver his calculated poison.
She was done running.
The locker room buzzed with laughter when she pushed through the door. Conversations didn't stop at her entrance, which was somehow worse than sudden silence would have been. They were talking about her and didn't care if she heard. Heads remained tilted together, whispers pitched just loud enough to carry across tile floors, the kind of cruelty that didn't even try to disguise itself as anything else.
