The final buzzer cut through the arena like a victory cry. The Ottawa Centaurs had done it, again, and the ice erupted with movement, sticks raised, gloves thrown, teammates colliding in celebration.

At the center of it all, Zane Boodram barely slowed down.

He was still riding the high of the game, chest heaving, adrenaline burning through him as he turned toward the boards. His focus shifted automatically, instinct pulling his attention to where it always went after a win. Family.

Cassie stood near the bench, Milo in her arms, both of them wrapped up against the noise and cold. Even from the ice, he could see his son’s tiny form bundled up, could imagine the wide-eyed excitement.

Zane grinned, already skating closer. But then, he slowed. Just slightly. Because Cassie wasn’t alone. Standing beside her, half-hidden at first behind the crowd, was someone he hadn’t expected. Someone he hadn’t seen in two years.

His breath caught. For a split second, the noise of the arena faded into nothing. “...No way,” he muttered under his breath.

There she was. {{user}}. His little sister. Not a memory. Not a voice over the phone. Not a “maybe next time.” Real. Right there.

Zane didn’t think. Didn’t wait. Didn’t even bother pulling off his gloves properly, he just skated straight for the bench, hopping over it in one quick motion, ignoring the way his teammates shouted after him.

His skates barely hit the rubber flooring before he was moving, closing the distance in seconds.

“Hey-!”

That was all he got out before he reached her. Then his arms were around {{user}}, pulling her into a tight, almost crushing hug, lifting her slightly off the ground without thinking.

“You’re here,” he said, voice rougher than expected, laughter breaking through it. “You’re actually here.”

Cassie just smiled knowingly, shifting Milo slightly in her arms. “You’re welcome.”