Chapter 126 The Coach’s Office
Lenora barely slept.
Between the threat in the hockey boy’s locker and the look on Coach Brennan’s face after practice, her mind refused to shut off.
By the time morning came, she was running on caffeine, anxiety, and pure stubbornness.
The hockey boy met her at her locker before first period.
The second he saw her face, he frowned.
“You didn’t sleep.”
Lenora shut her locker a little harder than necessary.
“Neither did you.”
He smiled faintly.
“Fair.”
She reached for his hand automatically.
His fingers laced through hers.
The familiar warmth steadied her.
“Are we really doing this today?” he asked.
Lenora looked up at him.
“We’re past the point of pretending.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Then we do it right.”
Lilibeth appeared out of nowhere, carrying an iced coffee in each hand.
“I brought reinforcements.”
Kylen followed, looking like he regretted every decision that had led him here.
Pamela was last, calm and focused as always.
Lilibeth handed Lenora a coffee.
“Drink this. We are about to commit emotionally reckless acts.”
Kylen sighed.
“I hate how accurate that is.”
Pamela looked at the group.
“Coach Brennan has a board meeting during fourth period. His office should be empty.”
Lenora took a slow breath.
“So that’s our window.”
The hockey boy squeezed her hand.
“We go in, find what we need, and get out.”
Lilibeth grinned.
“We’re breaking into the coach’s office. I’ve never felt more alive.”
Fourth period could not end fast enough.
Lenora spent the entire class checking the clock every thirty seconds.
The second the bell rang, the five of them moved.
The arena corridor was eerily quiet during school hours.
Their footsteps echoed as they approached Coach Brennan’s office.
The door was locked.
Lilibeth turned to Kylen.
“Do your thing.”
Kylen blinked.
“My thing?”
“You’re the morally ambiguous one now.”
He rolled his eyes but pulled a thin card from his wallet.
Thirty seconds later, the lock clicked.
Pamela stared at him.
“You’ve done that before.”
Kylen pocketed the card.
“I refuse to answer.”
They slipped inside and closed the door behind them.
The office looked exactly like Lenora expected.
Neat.
Organized.
Every file perfectly aligned.
Championship photos on the wall.
Trophies gleaming on the shelves.
A room designed to inspire trust.
Lenora hated how convincing it was.
“Spread out,” she whispered.
The hockey boy moved to the desk.
Pamela checked the filing cabinets.
Kylen went to the bookshelf.
Lilibeth stood by the door, keeping watch.
Lenora opened the top drawer.
Schedules.
Playbooks.
Nothing unusual.
The second drawer held scouting reports.
Her heart tightened when she spotted the hockey boy’s name.
She pulled out the file.
Notes from scouts.
Performance summaries.
Scholarship offers.
A future he had worked years for.
And clipped to the front was a sticky note.
Don’t let distractions cost you everything.
Lenora’s jaw tightened.
This wasn’t advice.
It was a threat.
“Found something,” she whispered.
The hockey boy joined her, reading the note over her shoulder.
His expression darkened.
“He put that there.”
Pamela looked up from the filing cabinet.
“I found a locked drawer.”
Kylen was beside her in seconds.
He examined the small keyhole.
“No key needed.”
Lilibeth peeked around the door.
“You have ten minutes. Maybe less.”
Kylen slid the drawer open.
Inside was a black external hard drive.
And a thick ledger.
Pamela lifted the ledger first.
Her eyes widened as she flipped through it.
“Oh my God.”
Lenora moved closer.
Rows of names.
Dates.
Transfers.
Donation amounts.
School sponsors.
Parents.
Private accounts.
The hockey boy looked over her shoulder.
“This is bigger than our families.”
Pamela nodded.
“Much bigger.”
Lenora reached for the hard drive.
A label was attached.
Archive.
Her pulse spiked.
“This has to be it.”
The hockey boy took it from her, turning it over in his hand.
The missing file.
Months of lies.
Secrets.
Blackmail.
All of it reduced to something that fit in his palm.
Lilibeth hissed from the doorway.
“Problem.”
Everyone froze.
Footsteps approached in the corridor.
Coach Brennan’s voice.
Closer.
Much closer.
Kylen swore under his breath.
“He’s early.”
Pamela snapped the ledger shut.
“What do we do?”
The hockey boy looked around the office.
“Closet.”
There was a narrow storage closet behind the desk.
Just big enough.
Barely.
They squeezed inside as the office door opened.
The closet was dark.
Cramped.
Lenora was pressed against the hockey boy’s chest, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
His heartbeat thundered against her back.
Coach Brennan entered the office.
Another voice followed him.
Male.
Older.
Lenora recognized it instantly.
The hockey boy’s father.
Her eyes widened.
The hockey boy stiffened behind her.
Coach Brennan shut the door.
“I told you this was becoming a problem,” the coach said.
His father sounded tense.
“My son is asking questions.”
“So is Lenora Davenport.”
A pause.
Then Coach Brennan spoke again.
“You should have handled this years ago.”
The hockey boy’s grip on Lenora tightened.
His father’s voice turned sharp.
“We agreed the file would stay buried.”
“And it has,” Coach Brennan replied. “Until the children started digging.”
Lenora felt her stomach twist.
Children.
As if their lives were collateral damage.
The coach continued.
“I can still control this. But your son is emotionally involved.”
His father exhaled.
“He loves her.”
The words hit the closet like a shockwave.
Lenora felt the hockey boy go completely still.
Coach Brennan scoffed.
“Then he needs to decide whether love is worth losing his future.”
The hockey boy’s arm tightened around her.
His father was silent for several seconds.
Then he said quietly, “I won’t ask him to walk away from her.”
Lenora’s eyes widened.
Coach Brennan sounded irritated.
“Then be prepared for consequences.”
A chair scraped.
Footsteps.
Papers rustled.
Coach Brennan lowered his voice.
“If this file becomes public, you won’t be the only one who falls.”
The hockey boy’s father spoke again.
“Neither will you.”
Silence.
Then the office door opened and closed.
Once.
Then a second time.
The room went quiet.
Inside the closet, no one moved.
Lenora turned slowly.
The hockey boy was staring down at her, emotion raw in his eyes.
He had heard his father say it.
He loves her.
And his father had defended them.
Lenora touched his cheek gently.
His eyes closed for a second.
When he opened them again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“I meant it.”
Her heart swelled.
“I know.”
He kissed her in the dark.
Soft.
Desperate.
Full of everything neither of them could say out loud.
A knock at the closet door made them jump.
Lilibeth’s muffled voice whispered, “I love you both, but we should leave before we get expelled.”
The hockey boy rested his forehead against Lenora’s.
She smiled breathlessly.
“Right.”
He squeezed her hand.
“Together.”
They stepped out of the closet.
The hard drive was still in his hand.
The ledger was tucked under Pamela’s arm.
And for the first time, they had exactly what they needed.
Proof.
Now all they had to do was survive what came next.