Jake Abbot
We won the game. The team had something to prove, which meant the puck didn’t come near me often, but when it did, I stopped it. Another shut out for me this season.
The team was in the locker room, celebrating, when Wyatt came over and showed me his phone. “When did your brother get to town?” There was a photo of Winter, her niece and nephew, and Jason. The couch looked like Warren’s, and he must have been there.
I shrugged. “I didn’t know.” My brother and I weren’t close. We went down different paths in life, and he moved away. I check in occasionally and see him if my father calls when he’s in town, but I don’t go out of my way to see him. I used to send him hockey tickets when we would play where he lived, but he rarely showed up, so I stopped. I wasn't going to make an e
