The forest swallowed sound the deeper they went.
Even the wind quieted, muffled by heavy branches collecting snow like white, drooping shoulders.
Arielle moved on autopilot.
One step.
Another.
Her breath puffed in harsh clouds. Her fingers ached despite the gloves. Her legs trembled from cold and fear.
But she didn’t stop.
Marlowe walked beside her with a flashlight, the beam cutting through the gray morning. Behind them, the ranger team spread out in a line—shouting Noah’s name every few minutes.
Arielle couldn’t say it aloud.
Every time she tried, her throat tightened.
Instead, she walked and prayed, though she wasn't sure who she was praying to anymore. Santa? The Christmas spirit she never really believed in? The luck magic that had always betrayed her?
Anyone.
Anything.
J
