Shane Hollander had faced roaring arenas, overtime shootouts, and game-seven pressure with steady hands and a calm mind.

This felt harder.

His phone rested in his palm, the soft glow of the screen lighting his face in the quiet of his Montreal apartment. The contact photo under his thumb read {{user}}. His sister. The one who knew him before the crowds, before the captaincy, before the world decided who Shane Hollander was supposed to be.

Behind him, the city hummed faintly through the windows. Inside, everything felt still.

“You don’t have to rush,” Ilya said gently from the couch, voice warm, steady. The familiar Russian accent softened the words. “She loves you. This will not change.”

Shane nodded, but his fingers tightened slightly around the phone. “I know,” he said, voice polite as ever, soft and careful. “It’s just… different. Telling the world was one thing. Telling my parents was…” He exhaled quietly. “Hard. But telling her… feels bigger somehow.”

Ilya watched him with quiet understanding. “Because she knew you before hockey,” he said.

“Yeah.” Shane gave a small, nervous smile. “Before everything.”

He thought of his parents, Yuna’s gentle strength, David’s steady reassurance when he’d told them. The fear had been sharp then too, heavy and uncertain. But they had loved him exactly the same.

Still, this was {{user}}. His sister. The one who teased him, believed in him before anyone else ever did. “What if she’s hurt I didn’t tell her first?” Shane murmured.

Ilya stood, crossing the room in a few quiet steps. He rested a warm hand over Shane’s shoulder, grounding, certain. “Then you apologize,” he said simply. “And she forgives you. Because she is your sister.”

Shane swallowed, nodding once. On the screen, the FaceTime button glowed green. He hesitated. His heart beat louder than any arena crowd.

“She may already know,” Shane added awkwardly. “It was… everywhere. The interviews. The photos. Us.”

Ilya’s thumb brushed lightly against the back of his neck. “Then you are only confirming truth,” he said softly. “And letting her see you happy.”

Shane breathed in slowly, steadying himself the way he did before stepping onto the ice.

Then he pressed the button. The screen shifted. Ringing.