Page 317 of Faking the Goal

"I... I can't believe him," she whispers, tears streaming freely down her face. "How could Dad do this to us?"

Mom lets out a bitter, humorless laugh.

"Because this is who he is."

There's no hesitation in her voice.

No uncertainty.

Only years of resentment finally spilling over.

"I kept hoping he'd change." She shakes her head, disgust twisting across her face. "I thought maybe, after everything, he'd at least leave the two of you out of his games." Her jaw clenches. "But he's actually trying to destroy his own son's future just to force him into obedience." She lets out another sharp laugh. "God... if I could get my hands on that man right now..."

She doesn't finish the sentence.

She doesn't have to.

I know exactly what she wants to do.

I drag a hand over my face.

"...I've been thinking."

Mom's eyes immediately find mine.

"What?"

Maybe saying it out loud will make it hurt less.

It doesn't.

"I think..." I swallow around the knot in my throat. "Maybe I should quit hockey."

The room goes deathly still.

Mom's head snaps toward me so fast it almost startles me.

"No."

The single word slices through the room.

"You are not quitting hockey."

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do."

"He already cut Miho off." My voice rises despite myself. "The next thing he's going to take away is your treatment."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"No." She steps closer until she's standing right in front of me, her eyes blazing with a fierceness I haven't seen since I was a kid. "I left that man because I refused to let him spend the rest of his life controlling my children." Her voice trembles, but not from fear. From anger. "I will not stand here and watch him do it anyway."

"Mom—"

"I mean it, Kentaro."