Elara Laurent arrives in San Jose quietly, slipping into the Sharks’ world like she’s always belonged there. The players learn her nickname before they learn her last name—Red, for the bright curls she never bothers to tame and the way she laughs easily, like everything in life is meant to be enjoyed. She’s brilliant at her job, firm when she needs to be, endlessly encouraging, music always humming through the training room while she tapes wrists or checks bruises. No one misses the faint scar along her cheekbone, but no one ever gets an answer about it either. Red smiles and changes the subject, every time.