read_all_night_again



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    And now, as Shane flew down the ice, carrying the puck back and forth with his stick, he found himself enjoying his own breathlessness. He felt his stomach jolt and his hands grow clammy with the excitement of the breakaway. The rink seemed to fade away as he got closer and closer to Toronto’s goalie. He did not see the crowd start to stand, sensing the impending goal. He did not see Montreal’s bench lean further over the boards, praying for the win that would clinch their spot in the cup finals and already imagining the glory of securing another title.

    He did not see Todd Masterson.

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    After Shane Hollander dies during the playoffs, Ilya Rozanov drives to Montreal looking for the pieces of him that are still left behind.

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    16 Jun 2026

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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

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    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

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    08 Jun 2026