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He blinks.

"I parked in the front," I say. "On the street. Under the light. I walked in the front door. I told the doorman your name and he called up."

He's staring at me.

"Anybody could have seen," he says.

"I know."

"Owen—"

"I told Laurel," I say.

His hand tightens on the edge of the door.

"Tonight. On the phone. She asked if it was you, and I said yes." My voice isn't steady. I don't try to make it steady. "She asked if I love you, and I said yes. She's the first person I ever said it to. I should have said it to you first. I'm sorry I didn't. I'm sorry for Nashville. I'm sorry I stood there. I'm sorry I said I didn't hear it."

He's looking at me like he doesn't know who I am.

"I heard it," I say. "I heard every word. I was four feet from him. I should have put him through the glass. I should have told every camera in that room exactly what he said and exactly what I thought about it. I didn't. I was scared. I've been scared my whole life."

"I know you have," he says, very quietly.

"Moretti put my name on a statement. It goes out tomorrow. The captain stands behind him. It's not enough. I know it's not enough." I swallow. "But it's what I can do right now. I'm going to do more. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I'm going to."

He looks at me for a long, long time.

Then he steps back from the door. Not closing it. Opening it.

"You said you love me," he says.

"Yes."

"To Laurel."

"Yes."

"Say it to me," he says. His eyes are wet. His chin's up. "Right now. In the hallway. Where anybody could hear."

The hallway's empty. It's midnight. There's a fire extinguisher on the wall and an ugly painting of a lighthouse, and somewhere behind one of the other doors a TV is playing a late-night talk show.

"I love you, Rémy," I say.

He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, he reaches out, grabs the front of my jacket in his fist, and pulls me inside.

Chapter Twenty

RÉMY

The statement goes out at nine a.m., and by ten my phone's so hot I have to put it on the windowsill to cool down.

It's short. Nadia wrote most of it. It says what these statements always say: no place in our game, zero tolerance, full support. But at the bottom, under the team logo, there's a line that isn't in the others. I've read a lot of these. I know.

"Rémy Castel is my teammate and my linemate, and I should have said so on camera in Nashville. I heard what was said. It was wrong. I stand behind him. — Owen Hale, Captain."

I heard what was said.