“The article?”
“The choice to write Ryan as responsible for the room even when the room failed him.”
I keep my face still. “He is the captain.”
“Yes.”
“Then responsibility comes with the letter.”
“So does blame. They’re not identical.”
Below, Ryan skates into a drill. Evan cuts through early, takes a lane Ryan clearly expected to close, and snaps a shot that pings off the post. Ryan’s head turns. Evan lifts both gloves as if to say, what, it was open. The nearest assistant coach barks something. Ryan says nothing, but the next time through, he changes the angle of the drill with one short gesture, forcing Evan to take the read inside the structure.
Evan does it.
Barely.
I can see the argument without hearing a word.
“You froze me out after Houston,” I say.
“The room froze you out. I let them.”
“That distinction is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. It’s supposed to be true.”
I look over at him. “Why invite me back through the most controlled entrance in the building?”
Bob smiles. “Because I own the entrance.”
I laugh once, surprised into it.
“There,” he says. “I wondered if you had a sense of humor.”
“It’s currently listed as day-to-day.”
“Ryan has one too. He hides it under duty and poor manners.”
“I’ve noticed the poor manners.”
“I’m sure he has noticed you noticing.” Bob’s eyes stay on the ice. “I read what you wrote about California.”
My shoulders tighten before I can stop them.
“Public record,” he adds. “Not gossip.”
“There’s a difference when it is your name in the search bar.”
“Yes. There is.” He nods once, conceding the point. “You softened a story because access made you careful. That is what you wrote.”
“That is what happened.”
“Did you soften Houston?”
“No.”
“Did you understand it?”