Body Check

“There’s nothing better than this,” Presley Houston boomed as he handed his daughter a bottle of Evian and joined her by the window overlooking the rink below.

They had the owner’s box to themselves tonight, which came as a great relief. When she was surrounded by her father’s colleagues, Hayden always felt as if she were one of those whales or dolphins at SeaWorld. Frolicking, swimming, doing tricks—all the while trying to figure out a way to break through the glass, escape the stifling tank and return to the wild where she belonged.

“Do you get to any games out in California?” Presley asked, picking an imaginary fleck of lint from the front of his gray Armani jacket.

“No, Dad.”