Snow softened even the sharpest footsteps.
The heavy doors of Ingalls Rink groaned shut behind them with the finality of a confession booth closing, cutting off the lingering echo of blade cuts against ice and the hollow sounds that had witnessed Silver's failed practice session. The contrast between the artificial environment inside and the natural quiet outside was jarring—like stepping from one world into another entirely.
Silver had accepted Carroway's offered arm in a moment of vulnerability she already regretted, but the alternative—walking back to her dorm alone while Eli's rejection still burned in her chest—felt worse than whatever game Carroway was playing. His presence beside her was warm and solid in a way that temporarily masked the ache of being dismissed by someone whose opinion had somehow started to matter more than she wanted to admit.
