The blizzard came without warning, the way everything important had happened since I arrived on this mountain.
One moment the sky was a pale, bruised gray; the next it was a roaring white wall that swallowed the trees, the road, the entire world beyond the lodge windows.
I had felt the first twinge that morning—a low, insistent ache in my lower back that I dismissed as more Braxton Hicks.
By afternoon the twinges had sharpened into something real, something that stole my breath and made me grip the kitchen counter while Dirk watched me with growing alarm.
“Felicia?” His voice was soft but urgent.
I managed a shaky smile.
“Just… practice contractions. Nothing to worry about.”
He didn’t believe me.
None of them did.
By evening the contractions were coming every eight minutes—tighten
