Chapter 2

"Don't worry, sweetie. Dad is going to the community coaching board meeting today, and I'll definitely secure that alternate spot for your second-round tryouts."

In the early morning, Brad made a promise to Mackenzie in an utterly confident tone.

Mackenzie sat at the dining table, her head down as she drank her milk, offering no response.

However, her legs tucked beneath the table tensed slightly with anticipation.

At ten in the morning, the hallway outside the public conference room at the community ice rink was packed with waiting parents.

Mackenzie and I stood at the very back of the corridor.

The heavy doors opened, and Brad walked out first as a parent representative and assistant coach.

Ashley was right behind him, leading Carter by the hand.

"Parents, regarding the single alternate recommendation spot for next week's second round, we have arrived at a clear decision," the head coach announced loudly, holding a clipboard. "Coach Brad has recommended a child with immense potential."

Brad walked into the center of the crowd. His eyes swept past my daughter and me without stopping for even a fraction of a second, and he reached out to pull Carter to his side.

"As a coach, I have to be responsible for the team's performance and safety."

"Originally, this spot was considered for my daughter, Mackenzie, but she suffers from ADHD."

"In high-intensity, physical competitive sports, her emotions and focus could slip out of control at any time. That's not just a risk to her, it's irresponsible to the entire team."

The gazes of the surrounding parents instantly pierced toward the small figure standing beside me.

Brad raised Carter's hand high. "But Carter is different. This boy is incredibly sharp. Even though he's young, his focus is exceptional. He needs this opportunity more than anyone."

Standing in the distance, Carter was dressed in brand-new hockey gear, while Ashley stood beside him with a coy, deeply grateful smile.

In that moment, Mackenzie's small frame began to tremble violently.

"Mom..." Mackenzie's voice shook uncontrollably. "Everyone is looking at me. Do they all think I'm broken?"

Brad's words were like sharp blades, flaying my daughter and me alive.

I gritted my teeth tightly, forcing down the overwhelming surge of nausea and rage in my stomach.

I slowly crouched down, picked up her skates from the floor, and wrapped my oversized down coat tightly around Mackenzie, pulling her into my chest to shield her from those stinging stares.

"Sweetheart, don't listen to him. We're going home," I whispered softly into her ear, offering what comfort I could.

Surrounded by the crowd, Brad caught sight of our retreating figures. A flash of panic flickered in his eyes, but he was quickly swallowed up again by Ashley's adoring words of thanks.

Brad didn't push open the front door until dusk.

He pushed open Mackenzie's bedroom door, attempting to stand on the moral high ground to offer an explanation.

"Mackenzie, what I said today was all for your own good."

"With your condition, you can't handle the stress of competitive sports. You have to learn to accept your limitations."

Mackenzie didn't answer. Right in front of his face, she slammed the door shut and locked it.

Brad yelled a few frustrated lines from outside the door before finally slinking away in embarrassment.

Mackenzie pulled out the craft scissors once again and took down the second-to-last photo.

The blades sliced through cleanly. The piece of the photo containing Brad's smiling face dropped to the floor, and Mackenzie stomped on it without a shred of nostalgia.

"Only one left."