My heart beats a little faster as I slide forward, the cold air slicing across my face. I take a deep breath, tip my skis forward, and start the descent.
The mountain opens up beneath me. This—this is the part where I come alive.
“See you at the bottom,” I call over my shoulder.
I don’t look back.
CHAPTER 10
Ransom
Acouple of hours later, we meet at La Terrasse, a picture-perfect café perched right off Place Balmat with candy-pink chairs and a view of Mont Blanc that looks like the gods Photoshopped it.
Ember is already tucked into a table on the outdoor terrace, which she clearly commandeered as soon as she arrived. A half-eaten pastry rests on a small plate, and steam curls lazily from the mug of hot chocolate cradled between her gloved hands. Her legs are stretched out under the table, crossed at the ankle, her expression tranquil—eyes half-lidded beneath the soft gold of winter sun, like she’s stolen a private moment from the chaos of the day.
Freja arrives a beat later, cheeks flushed from the slope and hair wind-tangled beneath her beanie. Shepeels off her gloves with a practiced snap and drops into the seat across from Ember with a satisfied exhale.
At the café counter, Aksel is gathering drinks—vin chaudfor himself and Freja, an espresso for me, a latte for Calypso, and a few bottles of water tucked into the crook of his arm. I cross the terrace to help him carry the drinks back to the table.
Just as we all settle in, Calypso reappears, having wandered off in search of the restroom. She lands in the empty chair beside me with a theatrical sigh, unzipping her sleek white jacket like it has personally wronged her.
“God, these boots are awful,” she mutters, tugging at one heel. “I swear they were adjusted wrong.”
Freja shoots her a dry look over the rim of her cup, one brow arched in a silent, scathing commentary that clearly says:Pretty sure it’s you, not the fucking boots.
I’m about to step in before things turn frosty again when Ember, who should by all rights be the one most annoyed, asks if she can help.
Gracious. Always.
Calypso waves it off with a tight smile. “Thanks, but I think we’re done skiing, right, Ransom?”
I shrug. “Maybe,” I reply, non-committal, and ignore the speculative glance she throws my way.
I sip my espresso and, pretending to admire the landscape, watch Ember as she talks to her sister.
Guilt sits uneasily in my gut. I shouldn’t have called her out for the way she spoke to Calypso, who,frankly, had it coming. And yet, Ember had been gracious in the aftermath. Polite. Even apologetic.
Aksel leans back and grins. “Tell me that view doesn’t make up for sore legs.”
Ember lifts her cup toward Mont Blanc. “Sante.”
Her eyes flick briefly to mine, and it hits like altitude.
If I’m not careful, I’ll fall again.
“We have this view from the chalet.” Calypso rubs her hands over her arms. “Damn, but it’s cold.”
She didn’t enjoy skiing, even though she wanted to.
“I should’ve gone to the spa instead.”
“Mama and Aunt Tanya go a couple of times. I’m sure you can join them before you leave,” Freja consoles.
It appears that the siblings talked and decided to play nice with Calypso, even if she irritates them, which I know she does.
She does okay with Margot, who is an ex-model like her. They have something in common; they seem to get along well. But I have a feeling that’s more on Margot than Cali.
With the others, she feels she has no foothold. They come from a different world.
