I never planned for it to happen like this.
My apartment building had a major pipe burst right in the middle of a freak winter storm. Water flooded the hallways, the heat went out, and everything turned freezing and miserable. My landlord, Mr. Donovan, knocked on my door and offered me a place to stay. He and his younger brother Liam were already up at their remote mountain cabin for a getaway, and he said the generator and fireplace would keep us warm. The roads were bad, but anything was better than staying in a dark, flooded building. I packed a small bag quickly and drove up with him through the heavy snow.
Mr. Donovan is forty-six, tall and solidly built with short salt-and-pepper hair, a deep rumbling voice that always made my stomach tighten, and big, calloused hands from years of
