The locker room had gone quiet. The echoes of laughter, cheering, and music had faded with the crowd. Now, only a few flickering lights remained on, casting a soft golden hue over the gym's polished floor.
Ryan rolled down the hallway, past trophy cases filled with moments frozen in time—teams from years past, the Wolves in their glory days. He stopped near the entrance to the court, just staring at the painted logo at center court.
"You're still here?"Sarah's voice broke the silence.
Ryan turned. She was standing with a water bottle in hand, her expression a mix of pride and exhaustion. She walked over and sat beside him on the bench.
"I wanted a minute," Ryan said, voice low. "To feel it. The quiet after."
Sarah smiled softly. "It's always the best part. The moment after everything—when you know it mattered."
He looked down at his hands. "It did, didn't it?"
"You saved that game, Ryan," she said, bumping her shoulder gently into his. "Just not in the way you used to."
He let out a breath, deep and thoughtful. "I didn't think I'd feel like this again… like I belonged. I thought when I couldn't play anymore, that was it. That version of me just… disappeared."
Sarah didn't rush to respond. She waited. She knew he wasn't finished.
"I've been thinking about it a lot," he finally said. "Ever since the accident, ever since the team kept playing without me… I felt useless. But today, when I saw them out there, and Tyler…" He paused. "That spark came back."
She nodded, watching him closely.
"I want to coach, Mom."
Sarah blinked, startled—but not in a bad way. Just surprised at how clear he sounded. How certain.
"You mean just this season, or—"
"No," Ryan interrupted gently. "I mean for real. Long term. I want to study it. Learn it. Be more than just a guy in a chair yelling plays." He glanced at her. "I want to teach. I want to lead. Just… from the sideline."
Sarah's eyes welled with emotion. "Ryan…"
"I think I found who I'm supposed to be now," he said quietly. "And weirdly, it still has everything to do with basketball. Just not how I imagined it."
She wiped at her eye and gave a watery laugh. "Your grandfather would've loved that. You know he used to coach little league. He was all about giving people a chance."
Ryan smiled. "Maybe it runs in the family."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just breathing in the calm of the empty gym.
"You're strong, Ryan," Sarah whispered, putting a hand on his. "Even when everything crashed down… you found something worth rebuilding."
He looked up at the rafters, then down to the court again.
"I'm not done with this place," he said. "Not even close."
And for the first time in a long time, Sarah didn't see the boy who lost everything.
She saw the man building something new.
A coach in the making.