Chapter 140: The Video That Changed Everything

Lenora returned to the stands in a daze.

Lilibeth took one look at her face and nearly screamed.

“Oh my God.”

Kylen dropped into his seat beside them.

“You kissed him, didn’t you?”

Lenora tried to look unaffected.

Failed immediately.

Lilibeth grabbed both of her shoulders.

“Girl.”

Lenora bit back a smile.

Kylen stared at her for a second.

Then groaned dramatically.

“I hate that I was right.”

Lilibeth squealed.

“I knew it! I literally felt the chemistry from six feet away.”

Lenora sank into her seat.

“Can we watch the game?”

“No,” Lilibeth said. “We need details.”

“There are no details.”

Kylen deadpanned, “Your face says otherwise.”

Lenora turned toward the ice before they could keep going.

But she couldn’t stop smiling.

And that alone told them everything.

The third period started.

The game was tied.

The crowd louder than ever.

He skated like he had something to prove.

Every few shifts, he looked toward the stands.

And every time he did, his eyes found hers.

Lilibeth clutched her chest dramatically.

“This is disgustingly romantic.”

Kylen shook his head.

“I need noise-canceling headphones.”

Lenora laughed softly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt light.

Then her phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

She opened the message.

A single video file.

No caption.

Her smile faded instantly.

Lilibeth noticed.

“What happened?”

Lenora pressed play.

The video was old.

Years old.

Slightly grainy.

Shot from a distance.

A younger version of her mother stood outside a building.

Crying.

Arguing with a man.

A man Lenora recognized immediately.

The hockey boy’s father.

Her breath caught.

The argument looked heated.

Her mother tried to walk away.

He grabbed her wrist.

She yanked free.

Then another figure stepped into the frame.

Lenora’s grandmother.

Much younger, but unmistakable.

She slapped her mother across the face.

Hard.

Lilibeth gasped.

Kylen sat forward.

The video continued.

No audio.

But the message was clear.

Her mother was sobbing.

The two older adults stood over her like she was the problem.

Then the screen cut to black.

Lenora stared at the phone.

Hands suddenly cold.

Another message arrived immediately.

Ask your grandmother what happened that night.

Her pulse hammered.

Kylen read the text over her shoulder.

“Oh.”

Lilibeth looked stunned.

“What the hell?”

Lenora looked up toward the ice.

Toward him.

He was racing down the rink, completely unaware that the past had just crashed into the present.

And then her phone buzzed again.

A final message.

She took everything from your mother. Don’t let her take him too.

The crowd erupted as he scored.

The arena exploded with cheers.

His teammates swarmed him.

He looked up into the stands.

Searching for her.

Smiling.

But Lenora wasn’t smiling anymore.

Because now she knew two things for certain.

Her grandmother had lied.

And whatever happened between their families was far worse than anyone had admitted.

The scoreboard flashed his name across the arena.

The crowd chanted.

The team celebrated.

And Lenora sat frozen with her grandmother’s secret in her hands.

When he looked toward her again, their eyes met.

His smile faded instantly.

Because even from across the rink, he could tell.

Something had changed.

The crowd was still roaring when Lenora stood up.

Her hands trembled around her phone.

On the ice, he was being mobbed by his teammates after the winning goal, but his eyes kept searching the stands.

Searching for her.

“Lenora,” Lilibeth said carefully, “talk to us.”

Kylen took the phone from her and replayed the video.

His jaw tightened.

“That’s your grandmother.”

Lenora nodded once.

Unable to say much more.

Lilibeth looked horrified.

“She slapped your mom.”

“In public,” Kylen added. “And someone kept that video for years.”

Another message popped up.

No number. No name.

The truth is in the blue file. She hid it because she was protecting herself.

Lenora’s stomach dropped.

The blue file.

The same one she’d nearly found in the archive room.

The same file her grandmother had gone out of her way to hide.

Kylen looked up sharply.

“So the file is real.”

Lilibeth grabbed Lenora’s hand.

“We’re getting that file tonight.”

Lenora stared down at the message.

For weeks, she’d felt like she was being pushed from one clue to another.

One half-truth to the next.

Now she finally had something concrete.

The final buzzer sounded.

The team rushed the ice.

Fans jumped to their feet.

Music blasted through the arena.

Lenora barely heard any of it.

Because she only saw him.

He was already skating toward the tunnel.

Toward her.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the players’ entrance, helmet in hand, hair damp, still flushed from the game.

The second he saw her face, his expression changed.

“What happened?”

Lenora held up her phone.

“I got this during the game.”

He watched the video in silence.

Once.

Then again.

When he looked up, the easy warmth from earlier was gone.

“That’s my dad,” he said quietly.

Lenora nodded.

He stared at the screen for another second.

Then at her.

“My father never told me about this.”

“Mine didn’t either.”

The weight of that settled between them.

For a moment, neither knew what to say.

Finally, he reached for her hand.

His fingers laced with hers naturally, like there was no question about it.

“We find out what happened,” he said.

Lenora looked at him.

“You’re sure?”

His grip tightened slightly.

“If our families dragged us into this, then they don’t get to decide what happens next.”

Lilibeth clutched her chest.

“I’m obsessed with you two.”

Kylen rolled his eyes.

“Can we focus on the possible family scandal?”

A small smile tugged at Lenora’s lips despite everything.

The hockey boy looked back at her.

“We go to your house tonight.”

Lenora nodded.

“And get the blue file.”

The house was quiet when they arrived.

Too quiet.

Lilibeth and Kylen waited downstairs while Lenora and the hockey boy headed toward her grandmother’s study.

The same room.

The same locked drawers.

The same secrets.

Lenora pushed the door open slowly.

Dark wood. Leather chairs. Everything in its place.

Her grandmother liked order.

Control.

“Do you know where it is?” he asked softly.

Lenora moved to the desk.

“Not exactly.”

She tried the top drawer.

Locked.

He stepped beside her.

“Move.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He reached into the decorative bowl on the desk, lifted a paperweight, and revealed a tiny brass key taped underneath.

Lenora stared at him.

“How did you—”

He shrugged.

“My dad hides things the same way.”

That should not have been attractive.

And yet.

Lenora unlocked the drawer.

Inside were several folders.

Contracts.

Letters.

Old photographs.

And beneath them—

A blue file.

Her pulse thundered.

She pulled it out carefully.

At that exact moment, the study lights flicked on.

Lenora froze.

Her grandmother stood in the doorway.

Perfectly composed.

Hands folded in front of her.

And for the first time, she didn’t look surprised.

She looked disappointed.

“I was wondering how long it would take,” she said calmly.

Lenora tightened her grip on the file.

“No more half-truths.”

Her grandmother’s gaze shifted to the hockey boy, then back to Lenora.

“Once you open that,” she said quietly, “there is no going back.”

Lenora met her stare.

Then opened the file.

The first page was a birth certificate.

Her eyes dropped to the names.

Mother: her mother.

Father: blank.

Attached to the back was a letter.

One line highlighted in yellow.

The child was never supposed to know who her real father is.

Lenora’s breath caught.

The room went silent.

Because suddenly, the biggest secret in the family wasn’t the old romance.

It was her.