Chapter 184 The Missing Emails

Chapter 184 The Missing Emails
Lena’s POV

The charity event ended much more quietly than it had almost fallen apart. The children finished decorating recovery cards for Ryan before we left. Every card carried a different message, but they all said the same thing in their own way.

Come back when you are ready.

Nobody asked him to hurry; nobody asked him to be stronger than he already was. I thought about those cards during the drive home; Ryan rested against the passenger seat with his eyes closed. He looked exhausted, but he also looked lighter. Spending time with the children had reminded him that there was a life outside the championship.

I kept both hands on the steering wheel. “You are quiet,” I said.

Ryan opened one eye and smiled. “I am saving my energy.”

“I noticed,” I whispered.

“I also know you are thinking about something.” He said.

I glanced at him for a second. “What makes you think that?”

You keep tapping your thumb on the steering wheel. He said.

I laughed softly. “You still notice everything.”

“I always noticed you.” He whispered.

His answer made me smile. For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence felt comfortable. When we reached the house, Ryan insisted on walking inside without my help.

“I can manage,” he said.

“I know you can,” I whispered.

“You sound unconvinced.” He said.

“I sound careful,” I replied.

He smiled. “There is a difference.”

“There is,” I muttered.

He walked slowly through the front door and lowered himself onto the sofa with obvious care. “I hate needing this much help.”

I carried his medication and a bottle of water into the living room. “You are healing.”

“I know.” He said.

“That is not the same thing,” I muttered.

He accepted the water from me. “I have spent my whole life solving problems by working harder.” He looked at the sling around his shoulder. “I cannot work harder at healing.”

“No,” I whispered. “You have to let time do part of the job.”

He sighed. “I have never been adept at waiting.”

“I noticed,” I whispered.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He looked at the screen but did not reach for it.

“You can ignore it,” I said.

“I was planning to.” He replied.

My phone rang before the room became quiet again. The screen showed Detective Harper.

I answered immediately. “Hello.”

“Lena,” she said, “I need to speak with you and Ryan.” Her voice sounded different and more serious than usual.

“Did something happen?” I asked.

“We found new evidence.” She replied.

I looked at Ryan, and he watched my face closely.

“What kind of evidence?” I muttered.

“The tracking device inside the chess piece led us to a storage account.” She paused. “It contains thousands of deleted emails.”

Ryan straightened carefully. “What emails?”

I put the call on speakerphone, and Detective Harper continued. “The account belonged to someone inside your team’s executive offices.”

Ryan frowned. “Our team?”

“Yes.” She spoke carefully. “We believe someone deliberately removed internal emails before the league requested official records.”

The room became very still, and Ryan exchanged a confused look with me.

“What were they hiding?” he asked.

“We do not know yet.” The detective replied. “But the recovered files suggest someone was trying to erase conversations.”

Ryan rubbed his forehead with his left hand. “Conversations about what?”

“There are references to medical reports, player contracts, and outside payments.” She replied.

My stomach tightened. “Outside payments?”

“Yes.” She replied.

Ryan shook his head. “None of this makes sense.”

Detective Harper answered quietly. “It will.” She took a slow breath. “There is one email that mentions you by name.”

Ryan stared at the phone. “What does it say?”

“I would rather show you in person.” She said.

“When?” Ryan asked.

“I am already outside.” She replied.

Ryan looked toward the front window. A dark sedan had just stopped across the street, and Detective Harper stepped out carrying a thick evidence box. She was not alone; another man climbed out of the passenger side. He wore a dark suit and carried an identification case. When they reached the front door, Detective Harper introduced him.

“This is Lucas Brooks.

The man offered a polite handshake. “I am an investigator with the league’s integrity office.”

Ryan invited them inside, and Lucas placed the evidence box on the dining table.

“We recovered more than six thousand deleted emails.” He opened the lid. Folders filled the box. Colour-coded tabs separated the different departments. Medical. Finance. Player Relations. Executive Office. Lucas picked up one folder and slid it toward Ryan. “This one concerns you.”

Ryan looked at the label.

Confidential – Kade Injury Management.

His expression changed immediately. “I have never seen this file.”

“You were never supposed to.” Lucas opened the folder and removed several printed emails. “The originals were deleted from the executive server.”

He handed the first page to Ryan, and Ryan read silently. His face slowly lost its colour.

“What is it?” I asked.

He looked up at me, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “This email was sent three months before my shoulder gave out.”

He handed me the page. The subject line stopped my heart.

Do not disclose Kade's full medical evaluation until after the playoffs. We cannot afford unnecessary distractions.

I read the email twice because I could not believe what I was seeing. The message came from a senior executive in the team’s front office. It was addressed to the team physician, the general manager, and two people whose names I did not recognise.

My hands became cold, and I looked at Ryan.

“You never saw the letter?” I muttered.

He shook his head slowly. “No," his voice sounded flat. “I was told my shoulder showed normal wear for a player who had been competing for years.”

Lucas nodded. “That is what appears in your official medical file.”

Ryan looked back at the email. “So there was another report.”

“There was.” Detective Harper opened another folder and carefully removed a second document. “We recovered the original examination.” She handed it to Ryan.

He read quietly, and his eyes stopped moving halfway down the page.

“What does it say?” I asked.

Ryan swallowed before answering. “The specialist recommended more imaging." He looked up. “He also recommended that I stop playing until they understood why my shoulder kept becoming unstable.”

The room fell silent, and I felt anger rising inside me.

“They ignored that recommendation?” I muttered.

Lucas answered before Ryan could. “Someone overruled it.”

Ryan stared at him. “Who?”

Lucas hesitated. “We are still confirming every detail.”

Ryan placed the report on the table. “I want names.”

“You will have them,” Lucas replied.

“When?” Ryan asked.

“As soon as we can prove who made the decision.” He replied.

Ryan leaned back carefully. “My career almost ended because somebody wanted me to keep playing.”

“No,” Detective Harper corrected gently. “Your career was placed at risk because someone believed protecting the organisation mattered more than protecting a single player.”

Ryan looked away. “I trusted them.” His words were quiet, but they carried years of loyalty. “I trusted every one of them.”

I moved my chair closer to him. “You did what every athlete is supposed to do.”

“I should have asked more questions.” He muttered.

“You asked the questions you knew to ask,” I whispered.

He rubbed his forehead with his left hand. “I kept telling myself the pain was normal.”

Lucas looked at him with sympathy. “Many athletes do.”

Ryan laughed without any humour. “I even convinced myself that I was getting soft.”

“You were not." I reached for his hand. “You were trying to be the captain everyone needed.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “I almost destroyed my shoulder because I thought playing through pain made me stronger. Ever since you left, they brought a personal therapist for me. I never knew she wasn't helping me. If not, I keep coming to you for treatment.”

I looked directly at him. “No.”

He met my eyes.

“It made you vulnerable to people who abused your trust,” I muttered.

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Detective Harper finally broke the silence. “There is something else.”

She removed another printed email from the folder. “This one was sent the day after your last physical examination.”

Ryan accepted it. As he read, I watched his expression change from confusion to disbelief.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

He handed me the page. The email contained only one sentence.

If Kade asks for another opinion, delay the appointment until the season ends.

I looked at Lucas. “That cannot be legal.”

“It is not.” He said.

Ryan closed his eyes. “So every time I asked why my shoulder kept hurting…”

Lucas nodded slowly. “Someone already knew the answer.”

The weight of those words settled over the room. Ryan had spent months blaming himself; he had trained harder, he had pushed through pain, and he had questioned his body. All along, someone else had been making decisions behind his back.

Detective Harper closed the evidence box. “We believe this is only the beginning.”

Ryan looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“The recovered emails stop three weeks before your injury.” She said.

“Why?” Ryan asked.

“We think someone deleted another archive before investigators reached the servers.” She replied.

Lucas nodded. “We know those messages existed.”

“Can you recover them?” Ryan asked.

“We are trying,” Lucas replied.

Ryan looked toward the window. The afternoon sunlight filled the living room, but the warmth no longer reached any of us. Someone had hidden the truth, someone had decided that a championship mattered more than Ryan’s future, and someone was still trying to erase every trace of it. Just then, Lucas's phone vibrated. He looked at the screen, and his expression hardened immediately.

“What happened?” Detective Harper asked.

Lucas lowered the phone slowly. “Our forensic team just recovered one more deleted email.”

Ryan stood so quickly that I had to steady him. “Who sent it?”

Lucas looked directly at him. “It was not sent by an executive.”

The room fell silent.

“It was sent by someone inside your locker room,” Lucas said.

Every person in the room stopped breathing.

Ryan’s face tightened. “Tell me who.”

Lucas took a slow breath. “We need to verify it before I answer.”

His hesitation told me one thing. The name, whoever it was, would change everything.