“You know that twelfth grade is the most important year, right?”
Riley Yoon’s sharp voice echoed through the dining room.
“I’m sorry, honey. The situation’s out of my control. There’s a problem at the Korean branch, and your grandfather isn’t well. I have to go back to Korea urgently.”
“So, it’s fine for you to leave, but what about me? You’re just going to abandon me for a year? Am I supposed to go to school all by myself?”
Yoon Moo-taek, who had raised his only daughter Riley on his own, ran a business exporting nickel and other minerals in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada. But now, unavoidable circumstances were forcing him to return to Korea—at least for a while.
The tense air in the room was suddenly cut by the sound of the TV that had been left on.
[The long-awaited CHL (Canadian Junior Hockey League) playoffs! It’s the Toronto Red Wings versus the Calgary Blackhorns!]
[Yes, and many of these players will be turning eighteen next year—eligible for the NHL draft! This Junior Championship is a crucial match.]
[The players are gathering now! The first period begins!]
Moo-taek’s gaze drifted toward the screen. He leaned forward, eyes glued to the hockey match, completely forgetting his daughter’s glare.
“Ugh, hockey again? Dad, were you born and raised in Canada or something? Are you secretly an honorary Canadian? Why is a guy who lived in Korea until thirty so obsessed with ice hockey?”
“Oh my. Sorry, sorry.”
Startled, Moo-taek quickly turned the volume down—but even then, he didn’t turn the TV off. Riley sighed in defeat.
“So what now? You’re not seriously telling me to go to Korea with you, are you?”
“Of course not. I’ve been thinking about it…”
About a month later, as September approached, Riley was preparing to begin her senior year. The thought of taking college entrance exams alone during such a critical year—especially in Korea—was absurd.
“Riley, how about going to Toronto?”
“…Toronto?”
“Yeah. You’ve always wanted to live there. And honestly, it’s hard to get into a good university from a small town like Sudbury.”
Toronto—the largest and most vibrant city in Canada—had always been a distant dream for Riley, who’d spent her whole life in quiet Sudbury. Her eyes widened, curious, but Moo-taek went on.
“Do you remember Mrs. McDavid? She used to work as an in-house lawyer at your grandfather’s company.”
“Ah… I don’t really remember.”
Riley’s interest vanished the moment she heard that surname. Her brows furrowed as if someone had just unearthed a dark secret from her childhood.
“Really? You made that poor kid cry all the time.”
When she was seven, she’d skate on frozen Lake Ramsey—and one winter, she’d smacked a boy in the head with a hockey stick. The memory flashed before her eyes: the boy crying, clutching his helmet.
“W–when did I ever do that?!”
Moo-taek laughed heartily at his daughter’s flustered face and continued.
“Well, I finally got in touch with her. When I explained our situation, she suggested you could stay with her family and attend school there. It’s a prestigious public school—Marshall Jackson Secondary—and I hear it has a great academic atmosphere and high university acceptance rates.”
Riley blinked, her mind racing. It was the perfect chance to escape her small-town life.
“If you’re fine with it, you can transfer there next semester and stay with them as a homestay student.”
“But…”
“Your grades are excellent, and I’ve already prepared all your recommendation letters. You’ll have no problem getting in.”
Everything sounded ideal—except the “homestay” part. Living with your childhood neighbors? That was awkward. She’d rather be in a dorm, surrounded by people her own age.
“Dad, you always said Sudbury was boring because of your work. And now that I have a chance to leave, you’re worried?”
“It’s not that. I just think a boarding school might be better.”
“No. You’re still too young. You need adult supervision.”
As expected, her father’s conservative, overprotective nature won again. If he’d ever been open to boarding schools, he would’ve sent her long ago.
Riley gave up with a small shrug.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
“Good! I’ll call Mrs. McDavid right now.”
“Wait, Dad!”
Riley grabbed the hem of his shirt just as he was about to pull out his phone.
“Wh–what was his name again? The son in that family.”
“Aiden?”
“Aiden McDavid,” Moo-taek answered casually.
Riley froze. Aiden McDavid. She remembered all too well.
The blond boy who used to follow her everywhere… the one she’d teased mercilessly.
She’d hit him with a hockey stick, fed him unidentified mushrooms, yelled at him whenever he got in her way, ignored all his letters…
A chill ran down her spine at the thought of her “original sin.”
“So… he goes to the same school as me?”
“Probably. I heard he’s an ice hockey player now.”
“What? Aiden McDavid—the crybaby—is a hockey player?!”
It was hard to believe that the skinny boy she used to bully had become a tough athlete in a brutal sport like hockey.
[Ah! What’s that?! Toronto Red Wings center Aiden McDavid and Calgary Blackhorns vice-captain Tommy Morris have dropped their gloves! It’s a hockey fight!]
A familiar name made both of them look at the screen. Moo-taek instantly turned up the volume.
“Wow, speak of the devil! He’s really good if he’s playing in the CHL.”
Riley’s mouth fell open.
On the screen was a massive man with dirty blond hair and fierce, lake-blue eyes—his fists flying as he brawled with another player.
[Looks like both of them are furious!]
[Oh! Aiden just slammed Thomas to the ice! That’s a clear foul!]
[Maybe it’s the junior league adrenaline—they’re a bit wild tonight! Aiden McDavid receives a five-minute penalty!]
Riley stared at the screen, dumbfounded.
That’s Aiden McDavid?
The boy she remembered had vanished. The man before her was all muscle and fire—completely unrecognizable, except for those eyes.
‘This is insane…’
She watched in silence as Aiden stormed off the rink like an angry bull.
[A Power Play has been declared ten minutes into the game!]
Power Play [1]
A rule in ice hockey that allows the game to continue even if one team has fewer players due to a penalty.
1.
The plane landed smoothly on the runway at Toronto International Airport.
“Railey Yoon, you’re my Yooniverse,” the words echoed in her mind. “I’m sorry we had to break up. Don’t forget me. Promise you’ll remember.”
The boy who used to make spelling mistakes in every letter… was now a rising hockey star.
Riley gazed at the tattered letter in her hands, its ripped edges taped together, then closed her eyes with a sigh.
Ha. It’ll be so awkward if we actually meet again.
She folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into her bag before stepping off the plane.
Retrieving her luggage, she made her way toward the arrival gates—only to hear a bright, familiar voice call out.
“Riley! Over here!”
Clara McDavid, with her voluminous blond curls and neat semi-formal suit, waved with a dazzling smile.
“Hello, Mrs. McDavid. It’s been a while.”
“Oh, Riley! You haven’t changed a bit—no, you’ve become even prettier!”
Clara pulled her into a warm hug, the soft scent of powder filling Riley’s nose.
“Thank you for letting me stay with you, Mrs. McDavid.”
“It’s nothing, dear. Mr. Yoon asked me personally, so of course I had to say yes. You must be tired from the flight. Let’s get going.”
Clara helped load Riley’s suitcase into the car trunk and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Is this your first time in Toronto?”
“Yes…”
“Don’t worry. It’s a big city, but it’s not so different from Sudbury. You’ll get used to it in no time.”
Riley smiled awkwardly as she buckled her seatbelt. The city felt enormous, the air heavier, her heart even more so.
Then Clara added with a light laugh, “By the way, our Aiden used to send me tons of letters and emails about you. He was so upset when you never replied.”
