"Coach Anders's office smelled like old leather and disappointment."
Silver stood outside the door at 2:58 PM, trying to steady her breathing. Through the frosted glass, she could see the coach's silhouette at his desk. Broad shoulders. Head bent over paperwork.
She knocked at exactly 3:00.
"Come in."
The office was smaller than she expected. Cramped, even. One wall covered in team photos going back decades. Another wall dedicated to a whiteboard filled with plays and statistics. The desk was cluttered with folders, coffee cups, and a hockey puck being used as a paperweight.
Coach Anders looked up. He was older than she'd realized, gray at the temples, lines etched deep around his eyes. He gestured to the chair across from his desk.
"Sit."
Silver sat. Kept her hands folded in her lap. Tried to look calm even though her heart was hammering.
The coach studied her for a long moment. Not hostile. Just assessing.
"Do you know why you're here?" he asked finally.
