CROSSING PATH
1544 Words
“Hello, miss.”
The officer on duty tapped Julia gently on the shoulder.
Julia jerked awake, lifting her head from the cold metal table. Her eyes were swollen, lashes stuck together with dried tears.
“Yes, officer?” Her voice cracked. “Has… has the thief been found?”
He let out a long, tired sigh and crouched beside her so their eyes met.
“Not yet. But I assure you—we’ll find the person. It’s only a matter of time.”
Julia nodded weakly, but fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Anything to make you feel safe,” he said softly. Then he stood. “But… we’re about to close. You should go home, refresh yourself, and try not to think too much tonight.”
Home?
The word struck her like a slap.
She had no home here.
Her vacation plans were snowed out.
Her belongings were stolen.
And she was stranded—alone—in a town she didn’t know.
“Miss?” the officer prompted, waving a hand in front of her.
When she didn’t respond, he guided her toward the entrance.
“You’re the last person left in the station,” he said, pushing the door open.
Julia stepped out.
The vast, empty station stretched before her—silent, dimly lit, echoing with nothing but cold air. Not a single traveler in sight. No warmth. No comfort.
“Just… go home and rest,” the officer repeated kindly.
“Yeah,” Julia murmured, though she had no idea where her feet would carry her.
She stepped onto the street, and the night wind slapped her immediately.
I forgot to wear a jacket… again.
Julia hugged herself, trembling violently as she forced her way forward. Snow blanketed everything—the sidewalks, the lampposts, even the road signs. The world looked like a frozen painting, beautiful and merciless.
Every step felt like her bones were crystallizing.
After minutes that felt like hours, she found a bench half-buried in snow and collapsed onto it. Curled up, shaking uncontrollably, she tucked her arms into her chest.
Well… it’s better to die here than die in that hellhole, she thought bitterly—but her body continued fighting, shivering hard.
No. Claire. I can’t die. Who will look after her?
She doesn’t even know where I am…
I can’t die. Not when I haven’t seen New York. Not when I haven’t started my business. Not when I haven’t even found my prince charming.
Her breath fogged the air as exhaustion tugged at her eyelids.
***
“Dad! You’re gonna be late! People are going to take all the good stuff and leave only the ugly decorations!” Anna’s voice rang from downstairs, sharp and dramatic.
“Just a second, honey!” Alex called back, scrambling around his room. “I’m trying to find where I kept my credit card!”
“Have you seen it?” Anna asked again from below, brushing little Eve’s hair while Eve played with her Snow White doll.
“Yes! Turns out I left it in the pants I wore yesterday.”
Alex jogged down the stairs, slipping on one step and catching himself, then grabbed a bottle of water.
Anna rolled her eyes. “Ugh, Dad! Why do you always drink from the bottle? It’s gross!”
“Sorry—slipped my mind.” He capped the bottle and kissed her forehead. “Bye, honey!”
He grabbed his coat and hurried into the garage, the door closing behind him with a mechanical hum.
All is calm, all is bright…”
Alex hummed along softly to the Christmas carol playing through his truck speakers as he drove down the empty, snow-buried road leading toward Hamilton. The headlights cut through the swirling flakes, illuminating miles of cold silence. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel—the girls’ Christmas decorations were waiting, and he didn’t want to disappoint them.
Then something caught his eye.
A shape.
Still. Small. Curled.
“Woah… what on earth—?”
He slowed immediately, squinting ahead. Under the harsh beam of the headlights, the figure took shape: a woman curled up on a bench, covered in layers of falling snow like a forgotten statue.
Alex’s pulse kicked.
“Oh my God… who stays out in this weather?” he muttered, pulling to the side and stepping out.
The cold slapped him instantly.
“Hey!” he called, trudging toward the bench. “Hey, can you hear me?”
No response.
“You can’t sleep out here—it’s freezing! Wild animals pass through this road at night. You could die out here!” he warned, stepping closer.
Finally, he reached the bench. Snow dusted the woman’s hair—long blonde strands frozen together like threads of ice. Her lashes were stiff, her skin pale. She didn’t move. Not even a flinch.
“Miss? Hey—Miss Blonde?” he tried again, tapping her lightly.
Nothing.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Well… don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back toward his truck.
He got in.
Closed the door.
Gripped the steering wheel.
And cursed softly.
Not even a minute passed before he groaned, threw the door open again, and marched back out.
“Oh my gosh… I’m going to regret this,” he muttered as he scooped her frozen body up into his arms—light, cold, frighteningly limp.
He carried her bridal-style to the truck, gently placing her in the passenger seat. He pulled the warm emergency blanket from behind the seat and wrapped it around her trembling form. Still no movement.
“You’re going to have to hang in there,” he told her, fastening the seatbelt around her carefully. “I still need to make a quick stop at the Christmas market before heading home.”
But Julia, half-frozen and unconscious, heard none of it.
He started the engine and drove off, the heater blasting.
Back home, Anna and Eve were glued to the living-room window, peering out into the snowy street.
“Why isn’t he home yet?” Anna muttered, arms folded, both worried and annoyed.
“Maybe he got bitten by a bear and bled to death,” Eve said casually, fogging the window with her breath and drawing patterns.
“Eve! Stop it!” Anna snapped, swatting her hand.
“You don’t know when to joke!”
Eve hit her back. “Don’t touch me!”
“Oh no you didn’t!” Anna gasped dramatically. “Respect your elders—”
She grabbed Eve’s hair, earning a loud scream.
At that exact moment, the door swung open.
“Daddy!!” both girls screamed, running toward him.
“We thought you got eaten by a giant bear!” Anna said—then froze when she noticed… something.
Or rather, someone.
She stared at the limp, bundled figure in her father’s arms.
“Don’t tell me…” Anna blinked. “You bought a HUMAN SCULPTURE as our Christmas tree?”
Alex exhaled sharply. “Girls… I swear I’ll explain everything. But first—I need to take care of her.”
“Who is THAT?” Eve whispered, tiptoeing toward the stranger’s blonde hair.
“Don’t touch her!” Anna snapped, pulling Eve back. “We don’t know her. She might be… dangerous.”
Alex carried the unconscious Julia upstairs, into his bedroom. He turned on the heater, slipped a warm pullover over her, placed a hair warmer and earmuffs gently on her head, slid socks onto her feet, and tucked her into layers of blankets.
Only then did he go back downstairs.
Anna and Eve were waiting at the foot of the stairs like two tiny investigators.
“So… girls,” he sighed, scooping them into his arms and moving to the couch.
“Wait—did you get the Christmas stuff?” Anna interrupted seriously.
“Yes, I did,” he replied. “Now… about the girl.”
He told them everything—how he found her, how cold she was, why he brought her home. Before he was even halfway through the story, Eve’s head had slumped on his shoulder, fast asleep. Anna’s eyes drooped moments later.
“Well,” Alex whispered, smiling faintly. “I guess that serves as tonight’s bedtime story.”
He carried them both upstairs, tucked them into their beds, turned on the heater, and closed the windows.
Then he walked quietly into his own room.
Julia lay exactly as he left her, wrapped in blankets, breathing softly.
He stepped closer.
And froze—not from the cold, but from surprise.
She was… beautiful.
Long dark lashes brushed her cheeks. Her lips were a soft, natural pink, untouched by the cold. Her skin looked impossibly smooth, glowing even under the dim bedside lamp. Her nails were neatly manicured, maroon polish elegant against her pale skin.
Her hands looked delicate—too delicate for the harshness she had survived tonight.
Alex swallowed.
“Who are you?” he whispered as he studied her face.
She didn’t stir.
But something in him had already shifted- empathy or affection what could it be?
- Writer
