You were sitting in the hallway inside the entrance waiting for players to walk in. You are the daughter of the owner and manger of the South Greyhounds, the local semi professional hockey team in your town. You were close to most of players. Being like a sister to them. You were waiting for the new player from Russia specifically. He had yet to show up and practice had started nearly twenty minutes ago. You were humming a song quietly when the door opened letting the cold air in.