Snowflakes & Secrets.

“Boss, we are in big dodoo this time… no wait, bigger dodooo than yesterday’s—just so you know.” That was the message River woke up to this morning, and she had been on the move ever since, trying to make sense of what was happening. That was ten hours ago, and now the stress of the day was settling deep into her bones. Her legs ached, her back throbbed, and even her eyes burned. It felt like every organ in her body was screaming at her to stop and take a break. The last proper meal she’d had was yesterday’s lunch. She’d gotten home late last night, too exhausted to even touch the food her chef had prepared. And now here she was—sitting on a plane headed to the last place she ever thought she’d return to. Home. If she could still call it that. It had been a full decade since she ran, and she had never once looked back. Not even for the people who kept trying to find their way into her carefully structured life. If they could see her now, they wouldn't believe it. Ten years ago, she’d been a scared, lonely, innocent teenager hungry, confused, and stripped of everything she cared about, including the people she once loved. Thinking about the night she decided to escape sent a shiver down her spine. The memories were sharp, painful, and unwelcome—memories she wished she could erase forever, but life wasn’t that kind. Collen, the big, terrifying town she’d grown to hate, had once meant everything to her. It had been the place she imagined building a family someday, the place she pictured growing old. But everything changed that cold winter when her world collapsed. That Christmas morning, she learned the true colors of everyone she believed was family and friends. Funny how life brings things full circle. This morning had brought a different kind of shock: a letter from Child Protective Services demanding that she come pick up her daughter before the child was placed in state custody. A daughter. River had never had any kids, never planned to have any. Not because she disliked children, she adored them. But she could never picture herself living the perfect little family life: father, mother, children. That kind of stability wasn’t meant for her. If she were ever to have a child, she knew it would have to be with someone she truly loved, someone who would stay, someone who wouldn’t leave their child growing up without a parent. Her trust in men was nonexistent. Honestly, her trust in humans in general was shaky at best. Because of that, she kept her distance from romantic relationships. They brought nothing but sorrow, disappointment, and complications. And River had learned long ago that she wasn’t built for that kind of pain. River shifted in the narrow airplane seat, rolling her stiff shoulders as the captain’s voice droned overhead. Ten hours. Ten hours of nonstop chaos, panic, unanswered calls, and questions no one seemed willing to fully answer. Ten hours since that message—Boss, we’re in big dodoo… no wait, bigger dodooo than yesterday’s had jolted her awake like a splash of ice water. She had been running ever since. She hadn’t rested, hadn’t eaten, hadn’t even had the chance to breathe properly. Her eyes burned from exhaustion. Her legs ached. Her head pounded. Every part of her body screamed for mercy. But River had learned long ago that the universe rarely cared about what she needed. Survival didn’t wait for a nap. Trauma didn’t pause because she was tired. Life kept moving, and she had learned to move with it. She stared out the window. Clouds rolled beneath the plane like soft mountains, peaceful and white—completely opposite to the chaos ripping through her chest. Home. She was actually going back. The word tasted strange in her mouth, like a language she once knew but had forgotten. Home had once meant comfort, laughter, safety. It had initially meant a warm kitchen on winter nights, street festivals, friendly neighbors, and a sense of belonging. Home had once been Collen. Now it was a wound she’d sewn shut and promised never to reopen. A decade had passed since she’d fled that place. A decade since she left behind the cold whispers, the betrayal, the lies, the people who promised love yet gave her pain. She’d walked away with a torn heart and empty hands, and she’d sworn she would never, ever look back. Yet here she was. Flying straight toward the one place she said she’d never go again. And for what? A child. A daughter they claimed was hers. A child she had never seen. A child she had never carried. A child she didn’t even know existed. River pressed her fingers into her temples, trying to process it all. Child Protective Services didn’t joke—not the Collen branch, not the state’s office, not any of them. If they said there was a child who needed her… they meant it. The letter had been firm, urgent, almost threatening. “You are listed as the immediate and sole guardian. Present yourself within seventy-two hours to assume custody. Failure to do so will result in the child’s placement in state care.” Her name. Her signature, though she had never signed anything. Her details. Everything lined up. Everything pointed to her. The letter had shattered everything she thought she understood about her past. She wasn’t ready for this. She didn’t want this. Not like this. If she was ever to have a child, it was supposed to be intentional, deliberate, built on a foundation of love she wasn’t sure she believed in anymore. She had always told herself: If I ever become a mother, the father will love me, and I’ll love him. We’ll be there together. We won’t repeat the cycle I lived through. But life had never bothered to follow her plans. River shook her head, swallowing the fear rising up her throat. Her past was a grave she had buried long ago. She didn’t want to dig it up. She didn’t want to face the ghosts still sleeping inside it. And most of all, she didn’t want to face him. Her heart thudded painfully at the thought. Not from longing, those days were dead, but from the memory of how deeply he had once managed to cut her. How easily he’d slipped past her defenses when she was too young to know better. How quickly he had broken every fragile piece of hope she’d offered. She had worked hard to become the woman she was now, sharp, guarded, self-made. Not the naive girl who believed that kindness meant love, that good intentions meant loyalty, that promises meant truth. No. That girl was gone. Buried somewhere along the frozen roads of Collen, left behind on that awful Christmas morning when her world collapsed. River closed her eyes as the memory crept in, uninvited, unwanted, carrying the bite of winter air and the sting of betrayal. She remembered the screams. The chaos. The way her entire life had flipped in a single night. How the faces she trusted most had turned cold. And how she’d run, not because she was weak but because staying would have killed her. Going back now felt like walking willingly into a nightmare. The captain announced the beginning of the descent, and River’s stomach tightened. She unclipped her seatbelt only long enough to pull her coat tighter around her. As the plane tilted downward, the familiar outline of Collen began to appear through the window. Only… it wasn’t entirely familiar. Her breath caught. The old clock tower that had once leaned precariously now stood tall and straight, its stone gleaming as if refurbished. The town square, once dull and cracked, now sparkled with new pavement and fresh landscaping. Even the train station she used to pass every morning on her way to school—abandoned and crumbling when she left, had been restored with new roofing, bright windows, and fresh paint. It was like Collen had tried to erase the past she remembered… or hide it beneath pretty renovations. A wave of discomfort washed over her. Change was supposed to be good, but this? This felt like walking into a stranger wearing the skin of someone she once knew. The plane touched down with a jolt, and her chest tightened further. No going back now. The moment she stepped off the plane, the cold Collen air slapped her in the face. It wasn’t as biting as the winters she remembered maybe the season hadn’t peaked yet, but it still carried that same sharp scent that clung to her childhood memories. As she walked down the hallway of the small airport, she couldn’t help but notice the changes there too. The old mural of Collen’s founding families had been replaced with a modern digital screen displaying rotating images of “A New Collen: Where Community Thrives.” The café she once used to buy hot chocolate from had been redesigned into something sleek and minimalist. Even the benches were new. But beneath all the changes, the ghosts were still there. She felt them. The past lingered in the corners, watching her. River adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she exited into the arrivals area. A woman in a dark CPS jacket spotted her immediately and walked over with brisk steps. “River ?” the woman asked. River nodded, her throat tight. “I’m Marissa. Thank you for coming so quickly. We know this must be overwhelming.” Overwhelming wasn’t even the word. Surreal, maybe. Terrifying, definitely. “Follow me,” Marissa said gently. “We can talk in the car.” River stayed silent as they walked to the parking lot. Every step felt heavier than the last. She wasn’t ready for any of this, and yet time marched forward regardless. Marissa opened the passenger door for her, then walked around to the driver’s side. “You haven’t been back in a long time,” Marissa said as they pulled out. “It’s been ten years,” River replied quietly. Marissa hummed softly. “Then you’ll notice some changes. The town went through a major development initiative about four years ago. New mayor, new investors, new focus on modernization. Collen has grown.” River didn’t respond. Her eyes were glued to the window. She saw the new library a stunning glass building replacing the old brick one. She saw the renovated park with its clean pathways, updated playground, and even a small pond with ducks. The graffiti-covered underpass where she used to hide on bad nights had been transformed into an art tunnel lined with bright murals. It was beautiful. And unsettling. She didn’t belong here anymore. She no longer fit this polished version of her old life. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as they passed the street she had once lived on. The houses had fresh paint. New fences. New driveways. Even the corner store had been rebuilt. A pit formed in her stomach. She didn’t want to see anything recognizable. She didn’t want triggers. She didn’t want memories clawing their way back. But one did. One always did. As they turned past the old town gym, River’s breath hitched. The building was bigger now, remodeled and expanded, but the location, the street, the parking lot was the same. Once upon a time, there was someone standing there waiting for her. Someone who made her believe she could trust again. Someone who made her feel soft, cherished, seen. Somebody she should’ve stayed far, far away from. River tore her gaze away, jaw clenching hard. She refused to let the memory root itself. She was not that girl anymore. She had built walls for a reason. She had learned the price of trust. She had learned the cost of letting anyone get too close. Marissa seemed to sense her tension. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine,” River forced out. A lie, but necessary. After several minutes, Marissa continued speaking, her voice gentle. “We’ll be arriving soon. The child is safe. The situation is… complicated, but we’re hoping you can shed some light.” “I doubt it,” River muttered. She had no answers. Only questions. And fear. She stared out the window again, watching Collen transform further the deeper they drove. Cafés had outdoor seating now. Streetlights were modern. There were new restaurants, new boutiques, even new flowerbeds planted along the sidewalks. Collen had moved on. River wasn’t sure she ever had. Her heart thudded with each passing building, each sign, each reminder that the place she once knew had shaped her, broken her, and now dared to pretend it had never done so. And beneath all the new surface, she could still feel him. His ghost. His memory. His impact. She wasn’t ready to face that, not now, not ever. She would avoid him at all costs, just as she had avoided everything connected to him for ten long years. Marissa pulled into a parking lot. “We’re here.” River inhaled slowly, gathering her strength. She would deal with this child's situation. She would get answers. She would keep her distance from anyone who tried to prod at her past. She had come too far, built too much, survived things no one knew about. But as she stepped out of the car and looked at the building ahead, a strange feeling tugged at her gut, part fear, part dread, part something she didn’t want to name. Because returning to Collen wasn’t just reopening old wounds. It was waking up the pieces of herself she thought she’d buried forever.