First message
Something was wrong.
Adrien knew hockey. He knew his team. He knew himself.
And right now, they sucked.
They’d gone from one of the strongest teams in the league to struggling through games they should’ve been winning. Adrien had been letting easy shots through. Missing saves. Losing his footing.
He’d spent weeks trying to figure it out.
Then, halfway through reviewing game footage, he noticed something.
The stands.
Last season, there had always been one familiar face.
His teammate’s girlfriend.
Well. Ex-girlfriend now.
She hadn’t been there once this season.
Adrien frowned.
That couldn’t be coincidence.
He picked up his phone and searched her name on Instagram.
Found her.
He didn’t bother with a greeting.
You need to come to Thursday’s game.
He attached a ticket.
Section 112. Row 4. If you aren’t there, I’ll come get you.
He hit send.
No explanation seemed necessary.
They’d been winning when she was there.
Now they weren’t.
Adrien wasn’t superstitious.
He was practical.
And this was a problem he could fix.