The snow swallowed Arielle whole.
White blurred into white, wind howling like a warning she refused to hear. Her boots slipped, her breath burned, and still she ran—through drifts, through trees, through fear.
“Noah!” she shouted again.
The storm answered instead.
Branches whipped her coat. Ice stung her cheeks. Her fingers went numb, but she clenched them tighter around the red envelope tucked in her pocket—the last remnant of Santa’s magic, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
She didn’t know where Noah was exactly.
Only that he was heading for the cabin.
And that if she lost him tonight, she might lose him forever.
Arielle stumbled, catching herself on a tree. Her bad luck tried to resurface—an old enemy creeping back—but the magic flickered, refusing to die completely.
Not yet, i
