Sienna sat in the chair opposite the desk with her tablet on her knee, scrolling through the medical report she'd prepared for their weekly meeting. Mara was behind the desk, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded and her sharp blue eyes fixed on some middle distance, as she did when she was processing information and deciding what mattered.
"Rowan's ankle is fine," Sienna said. "Minor lateral sprain, grade one. She's back in full training as of Monday. I've taped her for the next two sessions as a precaution."
"Good." Mara made a note on the pad beside her laptop. Her handwriting was small and neat. "What about Camille?"
"The hip flexor tightness is resolving. I've adjusted her warm-up routine and she's responding well. No restrictions."
Mara ticked the item off her list. "Frankie?"
"The back complaint from the Toronto game has settled. She's been doing the core programme I prescribed and the discomfort is minimal. She's cleared for everything."
Mara nodded, ticking items off her own list. The meeting had the rhythm of a well-rehearsed routine, which it was. Every Wednesday morning at nine, Sienna sat in this chair and talked Mara through the squad's health. Mara listened, asked questions, made decisions. It was efficient and businesslike and Sienna appreciated that about her. Mara didn't waste time on small talk or pleasantries. She wanted the information, processed it, and moved on. Three weeks since Elise Moreno's injury. This was the third Wednesday Sienna had walked in knowing the Elise question was coming, and it still required rehearsal.
"And Elise?"
Sienna's fingers paused on the tablet screen.
"Her rehab is progressing well. Range of motion is improving each session. The swelling has reduced significantly and the pain levels are manageable with standard anti-inflammatories." She scrolled to the relevant page of her report. "She's into phase two of the protocol, progressive strengthening. I'm seeing her daily and the compliance has been excellent. She's working hard."
Mara studied her for a moment. The pause was brief but weighted, a silence that coaches used when they were about to deliver news the other person wouldn't want to hear.
"There's no rush on Elise."
The words fell into the quiet office. Sienna looked up from her tablet. "Sorry?"
"There's no rush to get her back." Mara uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. Her expression was neutral, the careful blankness of a coach who had already made a calculation and was presenting the conclusion as if it werestill open for discussion. "Lex has been performing exceptionally well in Elise's absence. Our last three games, she's had two goals and four assists. The line combinations are working. The chemistry with Lou is strong."
The words were delivered without malice. Mara was stating facts. She was a coach who evaluated performance and made decisions based on data, and the data was clear: the team was winning without Elise Moreno.
"I'm not suggesting we rush her recovery," Sienna said carefully. "I'm reporting that she's on track."
"I know. And I want her healthy, genuinely. But I also want you to know that there's no external pressure on the timeline. If she needs eight weeks instead of six, she takes eight weeks. If she needs ten, she takes ten." Mara held Sienna's gaze. "I'd rather have her fully fit and available for the playoff run than back early and fragile."
It was a reasonable position. It was the right position, medically. And it was the worst possible thing Elise could hear right now.
Because Sienna had spent three weeks watching Elise's face during their daily sessions, watching her jaw tighten every time her phone buzzed with a game notification, watching the effort it took for her to smile when teammates popped into Medical to update her on results and ice time and all the things that were happening without her. She knew what this injury was costing Elise beyond the physical damage. She knew about the fear of being replaced, the panic she kept quiet behind every dry joke and casual question about the rehab timeline, how Elise's eyes went flat when someone mentioned Lex's name.
And now Mara was sitting here, calm and practical, saying Lex is performing exceptionally well, and the truth of it pressed against Sienna's ribs.
"I understand," Sienna said. "I'll continue the protocol as planned. No shortcuts."
"Good." Mara picked up her coffee. "Send me the written report by end of day."
The meeting was over. Sienna gathered her tablet and stood. At the door, she paused. "For what it's worth, Elise is working harder than any player I've rehabbed. She deserves to know that's valued."
Mara looked at her. The expression was unreadable, somewhere between acknowledgment and assessment. "I'll keep that in mind."
The corridor outside Mara's office was quiet. The coaching staff were in meetings, the players scattered across the facility, and the overhead lights buzzed in the empty space. Sienna walked back toward Medical with her tablet pressed against her chest and a knot between her shoulder blades that had nothing to do with posture.
She rounded the corner near the team lounge, where the sounds of laughter and conversation leaked through the closed door, and almost walked into Elise.
Elise was leaning against the wall outside the lounge with her phone in her good hand and her expression fixed in the blank neutrality she wore when she was trying not to show that she was hurting. She hadn't gone inside. She'd stood out here, alone, listening to the team through the door. She was in workout gear, hair still damp from the shower after her gym session, and there were dark circles under her eyes that the corridor lighting made worse.
"Hey," Elise said. The smile she offered was thin.
"Hey. How was the gym?"
"Good. Kylie's bumped the weights again. My legs are going to hate me tomorrow." The smile was thin, forced. She glancedat her phone, then pocketed it. "Just saw the highlights from last night's game. Lex had another two assists."