Chapter 214: Check The Time

NORA’S POV

The air went completely still in my lungs, and my pulse jumped straight into my throat.

Burlington Waterfront Hotel.

That was the exact hotel Knox had mentioned when he called me from the bus. He had said the team was checking in around two-fifteen before their four o’clock pre-skate at Gutterson Fieldhouse.

And the photo had been posted thirty-eight minutes ago.

"Nora?" Priya’s voice broke through the silence. She had stopped eating popcorn and was looking at me closely. "What’s wrong? You went completely white."

I didn’t answer. I just turned my phone around and held the screen out toward her bed.

Priya squinted at the display for two seconds.

Then her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped.

"Is that..." Priya scrambled off her bed so fast the yellow bowl tilted, nearly dumping popcorn onto the carpet.

She grabbed the phone out of my hand and stared at the screen, her brows drawing together in disbelief. "Burlington Waterfront Hotel? As in Vermont?! As in where Knox’s team is staying right now?!"

"Yes," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

Priya enlarged the image, zooming in on the stone fireplace, the glass table, and the lake view outside. "That conniving, bleached-blonde, trust-fund parasite!" she exploded. "She followed him! She actually drove all the way up to Vermont to corner him!"

"She probably knew I wasn’t going," I said, the pieces clicking together with sickening speed. "She knew the hockey team was traveling alone for three days. Do you think she knows about Garrison?"

Priya paced across the small rug between our desks, holding my phone like it was a piece of contaminated evidence in a murder trial.

"Of course she would know!" Priya responded. "Her father, Harold Orwell, plays golf with Garrison every single week! They’re in the same corporate country clubs! So Garriosn would have told Harold who would have mentioned it to Vanessa. She saw an opening, Nora!"

"An opening for what?"

"She thinks Knox is desperate!" Priya said, gesturing wildly with the phone. "These people don’t understand normal humans, Nora! To Vanessa Orwell, losing a trust fund is like having your oxygen supply shut off. She thinks Knox is sitting in Vermont panicking, humiliated, and crying over his lost millions. She probably drove up there in her daddy’s luxury SUV thinking she could play the benevolent savior!"

"So she’s trying to win him over," I murmured, my stomach churning.

"Exactly!" Priya paced back to my desk, leaning down with both hands planted on the edge of the wood. "I bet she’s offering to have her dad talk to his dad."

The anger hit me then.

It wasn’t jealousy, neither was it insecurity.

I trusted Knox completely. I knew where his heart was, and I knew how much it had cost him to tell Garrison no on Wednesday. He had given up every comfort he had ever known just to stand on his own two feet.

What made my blood boil was the entitlement.

Vanessa didn’t care about Knox or the game he was about to play. She just saw an opportunity to corner him three hundred miles from home, when he had enough on his plate already.

"Give me my phone," I said, holding out my hand.

Priya handed it back instantly, watching me with sharp attention. "What are you going to do?"

"I’m calling him."

I tapped Knox’s contact and hit dial.

The phone rang once... twice... three times... four times.

"You have reached the voicemail of Knox Sheridan. Leave a message."

The beep sounded in my ear.

I pulled the phone away from my cheek and stared at the screen. "Voicemail."

"Check the time," Priya said, glancing at the digital clock on her nightstand. "It’s three-forty. They’re probably already doing equipment checks or team meetings."

"I know," I said, exhaling a slow breath.

"Just leave him a message, Nora," Priya urged. "Are you going to call Vanessa out?"

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

I almost typed her name. The anger in my chest wanted to warn him, to ask if he’d seen her, what she had said, to tell him not to listen to a word of it.

But I stopped myself.

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"No?" Priya blinked, surprised.

"If I mention Vanessa, I’m putting her right in the middle of his head two hours before game time," I said, my voice steadying. "That’s probably what she wants... to rattle him, distract him, and make him play angry. Knox doesn’t need drama from three hundred miles away. He just needs to know I’m in his corner."

Priya looked at me for a second, then a slow, respectful smile touched her lips. "God, you’re smart, Bennett."

Nora: Just wanted you to see this before you get on ice. Play your game tonight, captain. Priya and I will be watching live. And remember, I’m in your corner, always. I love you.

I pressed the blue arrow.

The little swoosh sound confirmed it had gone through.

Below the text bubble, the small gray word appeared: Delivered.

I locked the screen and set the phone face-up on the desk.

"Now what?" Priya asked, grabbing the yellow bowl from her bed and setting it between our laptops. "We wait for seven o’clock?"

"We wait," I said, leaning back in my chair. "And we make sure the stream works."

Priya pulled up the ECAC sports portal on her laptop, testing the video player. A static graphic of the Briar lion logo and the Vermont catamount logo filled the screen, with a digital countdown ticking down from three hours and ten minutes.

"Look at this," Priya muttered, opening Twitter on her other browser tab. "Let’s see what the regional hockey writers are saying about the lineup."

She typed #BriarHockey into the search bar.

The feed populated with sports blogs, student beat writers, and New England collegiate sports journalists.

"Briar looking to bounce back against Vermont’s top-ranked penalty kill."

"Scouts expect physical matchup at Gutterson."

Priya scrolled down lazily, humming to herself.

Then, her scrolling stopped.

Her finger froze on the trackpad.

"Wait," Priya whispered, leaning in closer until her nose was six inches from the screen. "What the hell is this?"

"What?" I asked, turning toward her laptop.

Priya didn’t answer right away. She clicked on a tweet posted just seven minutes ago by Dave Miller, the senior collegiate hockey insider for the New England Hockey Journal.

The tweet had already been retweeted dozens of times:

"BREAKING: Multiple sources confirm unexpected credential cancellations at tonight’s Briar-UVM matchup. Scouts from the Boston Bruins and Montreal Canadiens have officially pulled out of attendance for Game 1. Rumors circulating regarding off-ice pressure from high-profile corporate donors connected to ECAC programs. Developing."

My breath hitched in my chest.

Boston Bruins.

Montreal Canadiens.

Those were the two NHL franchises that had been tracking Knox since October.

Coach Brennan had personally talked about them during film review. The Bruins regional scout had told Brennan to his face that he was making the trip to Burlington specifically to watch Knox center the top line against Vermont’s defensive structure.

And now, both of them had pulled out on the exact same afternoon.

"Rumors circulating regarding off-ice pressure from high-profile corporate donors..."

The words glared back at me from the bright white screen.

A cold, sickening dread washed over me from head to toe.

Garrison Sheridan wasn’t just cutting off Knox’s bank account. He wasn’t just taking away the trust fund, the penthouse, and the credit cards.

He was making phone calls to front offices. He was using his money, his corporate sponsorships, and his influence to choke Knox’s dream before it could even begin.

And Vanessa hadn’t just gone to Vermont to beg Knox to come back.

She had gone there to deliver the threat in person.

"Nora..." Priya whispered, looking up from the laptop with wide, horrified eyes. "His father is trying to kill his draft stock."

I stared at the glowing screen, my heart pounding like a drum against my ribs.

Knox was sitting in that locker room right now, lacing up his skates in the freezing Vermont air, knowing his own father had just sabotaged the biggest game of his season.

And there was nothing I could do from three hundred miles away.

All I could do was watch and believe in the man I love.