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“Is this Kyle Pressgrove?”

“Yes. Who’s this, please?”

G shot me a questioning look, and I shook my head.

“This is Officer Morales with the Detroit Police Department. You’re in Greta Pressgrove’s phone as the emergency contact. She was in a car accident this evening and has been taken to Henry Ford Hospital.”

The world spun. I might as well have been slammed into the boards by a hulking defenseman.

I dropped the phone, and it skittered across the table, narrowly missing my plate of food.

“Kyle?” I couldn’t focus on G.

I fumbled for the phone but gripped it on my second try.

“How… Is she…”

“What is it?” G’s concern mixed with impatience pierced my focus, and I mouthed “Mom” in response.

“Paramedics on scene reported she was unconscious and had a broken arm. I don’t have more information, but I am en route to the hospital. Are you able to get there?”

“I…” I looked to G, my brain locked up.

G reached over and took the phone. “Hi. This is Garrett Howell. I’m a friend of Kyle’s. Who am I speaking to, please?”

My mind flashed back to when the call had come about Dad. We’d been home from school about a half hour and…

“He’s in Phoenix, so it’ll take some time to get him there.” He listened more but kept his eyes trained on me. “Can he use the number you called from to reach you?”

I was hours away from her. Bobby was even farther because he and Seb had gone to Vancouver for a working vacation. The Arsenal were out of town too.

“One of us will be in touch with his travel plans. Please let us know if you get more information in the meantime.” Another pause. “Thank you, Officer Morales.”

Uncontrollable shakes racked me.

Mom had to be okay.

“I gotta call Bobby and let him know.”

G nodded as he passed the phone back. As I reached, he grabbed my hand as he put the phone in it. Grasping me tight with both of his hands, he held my gaze with a look of determination that helped pull me back.

“She will be okay.” He said it with such conviction I couldn’t imagine the universe going against him. “Call Bobby and I’ll get us paid up. Then we’ll figure out how to get you home.”

Bobby’s phone went to voicemail, which wasn’t a surprise given the time. I hated leaving this news in a message, but I couldn’t risk that he’d try to call me back while I was on a plane. I got in touch with Quinn, who worked in the team’s front office. They said they’d make the right notifications in the morning and to let them know if there was anything they or anyone on the team could do.

My mind raced, sorting out options on what to do. There were direct flights to Detroit. But even if there was still one this late, it would take almost four hours. Mom needed someone there when she woke up.

“Could you see what my flight options are?” I asked as we got in the car.

“On it.”

Who could I call in Detroit that I was close enough to who could check on her? The options were limited with the team on the road. I didn’t have contact information in my phone for any of her friends. As I drove, determined to not speed too much, I returned over and over to the one person who seemed like the best and worst option. I keyed the phone button on the steering wheel and spoke. “Call Austin.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw G’s surprise. Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. Austin had no reason to pick up. As his phone rang on the car’s speakers, G looked up from his screen.

“The last flights out are boarding right now. After midnight, there’s nothing. The first direct is at six. Probably your best choice since connections would just add time.”

Fuck. I wasn’t surprised, but still, that was hours away. Maybe I could get a charter. How did I even do that? The team used one sometimes. Maybe Quinn could help? I’d pay whatever.