A few minutes later, Eddie slid onto the bleacher behind me, smelling like the garage and the freezing air outside.
He had left work early to be there.
Like always.
He leaned toward my ear.
“Who’s the guy in the suit?”
“Marcus’s biological father,” I whispered.
Eddie went quiet.
Then he leaned forward again.
“Don’t let him rewrite the story, Tommy.”
I nodded.
My hands were trembling, so I locked them around my knees.
Then the referee dropped the puck.
Marcus played like he had something to prove.
Midway through the second period, he fired a shot past the goalie that sent the entire arena to its feet.
Danny jumped up applauding as if he’d been sitting in those stands for the last 14 years.
I stayed where I was, my throat tight.
By the third period, Marcus’s team was dominating.
First they led by four.
Then six.
With about 30 seconds remaining, Marcus carried the puck into the offensive zone and sent a perfect pass to his teammate Jalen.
Jalen buried it in the net.
The arena exploded.
When the final horn sounded, Marcus had scored twice, recorded two assists, and finished the playoffs with 10 points.
They’d won the state championship by six goals.
