Risa Kwon is thirty-seven, a league compliance attorney, and the woman they sent to Portland because they expected her to find nothing and write a report that said so. She packed eleven case files, running shoes, and the binders her mentor built over twenty-two years before choosing the pension over the fight. She does not intend to make the same choice. Milo Varga is twenty-four, a goaltender in his fourth NHL season, and a man who has spent five years turning silence into architecture. He reads shooters the way she reads depositions: looking for the tell, the inconsistency, the moment before the truth arrives. When Risa sits across the interview table, Milo reads her file arrangement in the time it takes to cross the room. She reads him editing her questions before he answers them. Neither of them can stop.