Chapter 008

Ivy pov:

"You shouldn't be walking anywhere right now," I said, catching up to him as he pushed through my door and into the hallway, his hand still braced against the wall like the world was tilting slightly beneath him.

"I don't have a choice." His voice was tight, controlled in that clipped way I remembered from before…before the accident stole the version of him that used to laugh easily and hold nothing back.

"If Coach thinks I'm hiding an injury, he'll pull me from Saturday's game. If he pulls me from Saturday's game, scouts start asking questions. If scouts start asking questions…"

"Noah." I stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "You almost passed out ten minutes ago. You don't remember pieces of your own life. This isn't about Saturday's game anymore."

His jaw tightened, but something in his eyes flickered…that same thread of recognition I'd seen twice now, like a part of him understood I wasn't wrong even if the rest of him refused to accept it.

"I'm coming with you," I said, before he could argue.

"Ivy…"

"That wasn't a request."

Anna grabbed her jacket off the back of my chair. "I'm driving. Neither of you should be behind a wheel right now, and frankly I want to see Morgan's face when she realizes she's not the only one showing up."

The drive to the athletic facility was silent except for the low hum of the radio Anna had turned on to fill the space. Noah sat in the back seat, his head resting against the window, eyes closed, jaw working like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer will. I kept glancing back at him, half-expecting him to slip sideways again, half-hoping if I watched closely enough I could catch whatever was happening in his head before it happened in his body.

By the time we reached the facility, my nerves were stretched thin as wire.

Coach Lockwood's office door was open when we arrived, light spilling into the hallway. I heard voices before we reached it…Lockwood's low, gravelly baritone, and threaded through it, sweet and syrupy, unmistakably Morgan's.

"...just so worried about him, honestly. He hasn't been himself in weeks, and I don't think anyone's really looking out for him the way they should be."

My stomach turned. Noah pushed the door open before I could stop him.

Coach Lockwood looked up first, his weathered face settling into something unreadable as he took in the three of us crowding his doorway. Morgan, seated primly in the chair across from his desk, turned slower, her blue eyes widening with theatrical surprise that didn't reach anywhere near genuine.

"Noah," she said softly, standing like she meant to go to him. "Oh my god, are you okay? I saw the video and I just…"

"Sit down, Morgan." Coach Lockwood's voice cut through the room like a blade, and to my quiet satisfaction, she did, though not without a wounded little huff.

"Carter." Lockwood's gaze settled on Noah, assessing him the way I imagined he assessed every player…cataloging weaknesses, searching for what was being hidden.

"You want to explain to me what happened at practice today? Because what I saw in that video didn't look like a guy who's fine."

Noah's hands curled at his sides. I watched him war with himself, watched thirty years of being taught to never show weakness, fight against the truth sitting heavy in his chest.

"I don't remember it," he finally admitted, and the words seemed to cost him something physical.

"I don't remember stopping on the ice. I don't remember dropping to my knees. The last clear thing I remember from today is finishing warmups."

Lockwood's expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes sharpened. "And how long has this been happening?"

"Since the championship hit." Noah's voice wavered, just slightly. "It's been getting worse, headaches and gaps. Things people tell me happened that I have no memory of at all."

"Why in God's name didn't you say something?"

"Because if I did, you'd bench me." Noah's voice cracked with something raw and desperate. "And if you bench me, scouts pull out, and everything I've worked for since I was six years old disappears because my brain decided to short-circuit at the worst possible time."

The room went quiet. Even Morgan, for once, said nothing.

Coach Lockwood leaned back in his chair, studying Noah for a long moment before his gaze slid to me. "And you," he said. "You're the tutor. What do you know about this?"

My heart stuttered. I felt Morgan's eyes cut toward me, sharp and assessing.

"I know he's been having memory lapses for weeks," I said carefully. "I know tonight he nearly collapsed in my apartment. I know whatever's happening to him is serious, and pretending otherwise isn't going to make it go away."

"She's the one distracting him," Morgan interjected sweetly. "No offense, but Noah's been off since he started spending so much time with his tutor, maybe it's not just the concussion."

"Morgan." Lockwood's voice held a warning.

"I'm just saying." She lifted her hands innocently. "It's strange, don't you think? He starts falling apart right around the time she starts hanging around him constantly."

Noah turned to her, something sharpening in his expression despite the exhaustion clearly weighing on him. "How do you know I've been spending time with her?"

The question landed heavier than it should have. Morgan blinked, her composure slipping for just a fraction of a second.

"I mean…everyone's seen you two around campus," she said quickly. "It's not exactly a secret."

"I don't remember you," Noah said slowly, each word deliberate. "I don't remember anything about you at all but looking at you right now feels like touching something sharp."

Morgan's smile faltered. Lockwood cleared his throat, cutting through the tension before it could escalate further.

"Enough. Carter, you're seeing the team doctor first thing tomorrow, full evaluation, and I mean full. No hiding symptoms, no toughing it out. If you're compromised, I need to know exactly how compromised before Saturday."

"Coach…"

"That's not up for debate." Lockwood's tone left no room. He turned to me next, and something in his gaze softened just slightly. "And you…since you're clearly more aware of what's been going on with him than anyone else on this team, I want you at every practice from now on. It's going to be official, not just tutoring."

"Coach, I don't think that's fair to Ivy's schedule," Morgan said quickly. "She already has so much on her plate, doesn't she? Two jobs and her sick grandmother and…"

"How do you know about her grandmother?" Noah asked sharply.

The room went dead silent.

Morgan's mouth opened, then closed. For the first time since we'd walked in, genuine panic flickered behind her eyes…swift, and gone almost as fast as it came, replaced by a brittle, practiced smile.

"Everyone knows about Ivy's grandmother," she said lightly. "It's not exactly a secret either."

But her eyes had already flicked toward the door, toward the phone clutched in her hand, and I watched her thumb move…quick, deliberate…swiping something away before anyone else could see the screen.

"What was that?" I asked before I could stop myself, my eyes fixed on the phone she'd just angled away from view.

"What was what?" Morgan's smile didn't waver, but her grip on the phone tightened, knuckles going pale against the pink case.

"You just deleted something." My heart was pounding now, some instinct screaming that whatever she'd just erased mattered. "What was it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She stood, smoothing down her skirt with practiced composure. "Coach, if we're done here, I actually have somewhere to be."

"Sit down, Morgan." Lockwood's voice had lost every trace of patience.

She hesitated, weighing her options, then sank back into the chair with visible reluctance.

Noah hadn't moved. He was staring at her with an intensity that seemed to cost him, his hand braced against the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "You knew about her grandmother," he said again, slower this time.

"And you knew we've been spending time together. And somehow you knew before anyone told you."

"I already explained…"

"You didn't explain anything." His voice, though weakened by exhaustion, carried a hard edge I hadn't heard from him since before the accident. "You gave excuses."

Morgan's composure cracked, just barely, a flicker of something calculating passing behind her eyes before the sweetness slid back into place.

"I think you're confused, Noah. Which, honestly, isn't exactly surprising given everything you've been going through."

"I might not remember much," Noah said quietly, "but I remember enough to know you're lying."

Silence stretched thin across the room. Then Lockwood's phone buzzed sharply on his desk, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade.

He glanced at the screen, and whatever color remained in his weathered face drained away entirely.

"Coach?" I asked, unease coiling tight in my stomach. "What is it?"

He turned the phone slowly, and the headline glowing on the screen made my blood run cold.

BREAKING: Groundbreakers Captain's Concussion Cover-Up? Sources Say Team Knew for Weeks.