Sara’s POV

When I got to the ice rink, the sound hit me first — sharp and echoing. The scrape of skates cutting into the ice, the thud of the puck hitting the boards, the faint laughter of boys who thought they owned the place. The air was freezing, biting at my cheeks the second I walked in, and I could see my breath in tiny white clouds. I tugged my hoodie tighter around me and looked around, feeling a little out of place.

Then I saw him.

Or rather, I saw his name. The word KING was printed in bold white letters across the back of his dark jersey....