Page 183 of Skate the Line

In the end, I listen to him. I trade off. I slump on the bench to grab my water.

“Volkova.”

“What?” I snap, glancing down the bench at Coach.

Time is ticking, and the pressure on our guys is heavy.

I need to be out there.

He flicks his head toward someone, and I lean back to see who.

My stomach falls.

And just like that, I forget about the game.

I stand and start to rush past my teammates toward Kevin, the team manager. I’ve seen this look before. Something is wrong, and it’s a blunt hit to my chest. I’ve grown so comfortable with Sunny taking care of Ellie in my absence that a problem at home didn’t even occur to me.

Malaki comes to the bench to rest, and his brow furrows when I brush past him.

“Where’re you going?” he asks through heaving breaths.

I leave my stick with him, but I don't answer.

I’m hopeful the cameras are on the ice and not watching me disappear down the hall. The media will start to speculate, and there will be all sorts of rumors.

As soon as Kevin and I are away from the crowd, I turn and wait for an explanation.

“We just got word that there’s been a car accident.”

My legs nearly give out.

“Where is my daughter and her nanny?” I force out.

I follow my manager into the locker room and start to strip as fast as I can.

I’m several hours away by plane, but they better get me on the next fucking flight.

“I was told that Ellie is perfectly fine.”Thank God.The dread is still present, though. My hands shake, and the adrenaline is swift.

“And Sunny?”

My manager pauses for a second. The question must’ve surprised him, but why wouldn’t it? I’ve never shown anythingbut disdain for my nannies in the past. Sunny is different, though.

“Uh…” He pulls out his phone and scrolls. “She’s…banged up, but…” He quickly reads a message. “They’re at the hospital now and?—”

“They’re at the hospital?” My tone is level, but I am anything but.

Fuck, Sunny is probably freaking out.

“Get me on the next flight.”

I pull on my hoodie and a pair of shorts, not even bothering to lace my shoes.

“Let’s go.”

There isn’t room for arguing.

My girls need me, and they need me now.

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