Chapter 1
"Good save," Victoria Hayley yelled as her friend, Sylvia Kingma, deflected the puck away from the net into the mounds of snow on the side. Victoria, Tori to her friends, grabbed the rebound and headed for the other side of the improvised rink. Sean and Tyson, the Paterski twins who lived next door to her, were right on her heels, poking at the puck, getting in her way. She had to do some fancy manoeuvring to keep hold of the little rubber disk. She saw Sylvia streak past, blonde hair flying. Suddenly Tori braked hard, twisted around, and shot the puck to her friend. Sylvia caught the pass. Before the twins had a chance to rush up to defend their goal, she had fired off a shot on their empty net.
"Goal!" the two girls yelled.
"We're even! We're even!" twelve-year-old Tori shouted with glee. She looked at the older boys triumphantly while high-fiving Sylvia. The four of them were having a friendly game of two-on-two on the frozen lake in front of Tori's home during the Christmas holidays.
"Aw, we just let that one go," Sean said dismissively.
"You did not," Tori argued.
"Did so. We know how girls get when they're losing."
"Look who's talking," Tori shot back. "I know you, buddy. You'd never give a goal away, not even to your own mother."
"Oh, all right. Have it your way," Sean laughed. He loved getting a rise out of Tori.
"Time to quit, guys," Tyson said, skating up with the puck. "It's getting too dark to see properly."
Sylvia quickly checked her watch. "You're right," she said. "I didn't realize it was so late. I've got to fly home, Tori."
"All right. Home it is. Thanks for the game, guys. See you around."
"Right, see you."
The boys picked up their net and skated away along the shoreline toward their house. Tori picked up her net and followed Sylvia toward the shore. She stored the net in the boathouse, then looked back across the lake. Amazing how quickly it got dark once the sun had set. Already it was hard to make out where their patch of cleared ice was. Vaguely she saw the humps of snow bordering it, but she wasn't sure if she was really seeing it or if it was just her imagination. Lights flickered from distant shores. Oh, she loved this time of year. Once the lake was frozen over, she loved being able to lace up her skates whenever she wanted to and just skate away.
"Are you coming?" Sylvia called. She was waiting impatiently halfway up the path toward the house.
"Coming," Tori answered and rushed up the hill awkwardly on her skates. From the snowy lawn outside, the girls stepped onto the cork flooring in the garage. Years earlier, Tori's dad had installed a bench along one side of the garage with a strip of the special floor alongside. "No sense getting dull blades from the cement," he'd said. Sitting on the bench, the girls quickly removed their skates and shin pads.
"Do you need a ride home?" Tori asked. Sylvia was slipping on her boots and bundling up her stuff.
"No, I can run. I'll be okay. Bye." And with a quick wave, Sylvia was gone.
Tori wiped down the blades of her new skates. Her dad had bought them for her at the end of the last hockey season. She'd always worn her brothers' castoffs before. Her first brand new pairshe pampered them like babies. With care she hung them on a hook. Her stick joined a dozen others in a barrel at the end of the bench. Then she turned off the lights, closed the door, and went toward the house.
Tori's home, an old cottage that her dad had renovated over the years, stood on the shores of Lake Couchiching, a finger of water off Lake Simcoe, pointing north. Once considered the back of beyond, their area was now part of Orillia. It was a wonderful place to live. The Hayleys had the joys of living beside the lake in summer with swimming, fishing, and all kinds of boating activities. Winter brought a whole new roster of fun. As soon as the lake froze over, there was sledding, skating, hockey, ice fishing, and even ice sailing, although Tori herself had never done that. Perhaps this winter her brothers would let her try.
The house was dark. Tori grimaced. So her mom still wasn't back from work. Probably working overtime again. She had been putting in long hours, even taking on extra shifts, to make those extra bucks, ever since Tori's dad had lost his job last October. Even this morning, half sick, she had gone off to work. "I can't stay away today," she had argued when Pete, one of Tori's older brothers, had suggested she call in sick. "They gave me Christmas off. They're counting on me."
"Mom, you're almost dead on your feet," he had protested.
"By the time I'm at work I'll be okay. I can't afford to stay home."
"We'll catch some fresh fish for supper tonight," Tori's dad promised. "Dinner will be waiting on the table when you come home."
But here it was close to dinnertime, and no sign of her dad or her brothers. No sign of fish either. Should she get meat out for a batch of spaghetti?
Just as Tori opened the door of the fre