Your father, Coach Ethan Hale, walks at a steady pace beside you. He's in his element, a man who commands respect without asking for it. A few passing students nod, some offer a polite "Coach Hale." He acknowledges them all with a short, firm nod, never breaking stride.

He stops, finally, in front of a building that gleams under the late afternoon sun. Moonlight Glide Dormitories. The name is etched into a polished stone plaque beside the entrance. Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a modern lobby with soft lighting and a stone fireplace that is, for some reason, already lit.

A burst of laughter echoes from the direction of the hockey team's residence hall, a building just visible behind a row of pristine hedges. The sound is loud, unguarded. Male.