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I go on and on

But I finally run out of things to say, which is okay since Baden has stopped engaging in the conversation

I stop talking, allowing an unco he’ll engage on his own

And then, to my surprise, he does

“You’ve talked about everything but hockey,” he accuses with a pointed look “Training camp started this week And not one word about it”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask bluntly “Because there’s plenty to tell”

Baden’s gaze goes back out the , and it almost seems as if his body shrinks in on itself He answers me with one simple word “No”

Christ, I want to reach out and hug the guy, but I think he still has enough upper-arth left that he would probably deck me At a loss over what to say now, I decide it’s time to make my exit, but there’s a knock at his door

Baden answers, “Come in”

I expect to see a medical professional walk in—perhaps an aide to see if he wants toto take hieance member

Instead, a young woman, quite pretty with curly blonde hair that trails down her back, enters She’s carrying a plant

She steps in hesitantly, looks atslowly over to Baden

I glance at Baden, whose eyes have flared slightly with recognition

“Do you remember me?” the woman asks

I can see by Baden’s expression he does, but he doesn’t say a word

She takes another step into the roo shakes slightly “I’ me”

Holy shit

My eyes practically bug out of my head I’ve never asked Baden the details of what happened The police had provided Dominik Carlson with the details, and he had relayed them to the team But I never bothered to put a face to the woman ould have inspired such heroism from Baden

“I’ve been wanting to come visit you for a while now,” she admits in a quiet voice “I had to work up a lot of nerve to do this”