Her expression shifts. Becomes guarded. “Right. The rich guy thing.”
“You have a problem with rich people?”
“No.” Her voice is careful. “Well, only those rich people who destroy the environment.”
I feel a sudden surge of guilt.
“Mycorr-something restoration in post-mining ecosystems,” I say. “You mentioned it last night.”
“Did I?” Her cheeks flush slightly. “I rambled a lot last night. I don’t remember most of it.”
“You cried about your lost data. Your disappointed advisor. Your parents’ sacrifices.”
The flush deepens. “So embarrassing...”
“You’re human.” I drain my coffee and set the mug down. “And for what it’s worth, your research matters. Even if you think people like me are the enemy.”
“I never saidyouwere the enemy.”
“But you thought it.” I counter.
She doesn’t deny it. Just looks away.
If she knew who Ireallywas... what my company did...
“Can we try to contact someone?” she asks finally. “My lab, at least?”
“Already tried,” I tell her. “Phone, satellite phone, laptop. Everything is down.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“How is that even possible?” she asks.
I gesture at the window and at the white sleet filling the air just outside.
The implications settle between us.
We’re not just stuck.
We’recompletely isolated.
No communication.
No rescue.
“How long?” she asks quietly.
“I honestly don’t know. Could be a day. Could be a week.”
“A week?” Her voice climbs. “We can’t be stuck here for a week. You’re a rich guy, aren’t you? You have resources, don’t you?”
I have to suppress a smile. “Yeah. Just because I’m rich doesn’t mean I can control the weather. Contrary to popular belief, money isn’t actually a super power.”
She glances around her, and folds her arms. “Speaking of power, is it just me, or is it colder today?”
I push off the counter. “The main power is off, and I turned off the generator last night.”
