Trust me, I try to say without actually saying it.
Slowly, her mouth curves. “Okay then,” she says, and there’s real excitement in her voice now. “Whatever this is… I’m in.”
Chapter sixteen
Felix
“Whoa,” Naomi breathes, scarf pulled up to her nose.
The blizzard’s finally tapped out. What’s left is soft, lazy snow drifting down over a world that looks like it got dunked in powdered sugar. The air bites at any exposed skin, but everything feels so… Christmassy.
“Finally,” Silas says, rolling his shoulders. “We can actually stand outside without getting sandblasted. This is much better."
"Better?" I grin, punching his arm. "Man, this isepic. Look at it! It's like we're the only people on earth."
He just grunts at my remark, probably to stay on-brand at this point, but there's something different, his posture is looser, easier than it's been in ages.
We wade through the drifts toward the woodshed. It takes maybe five minutes this time instead of the march-of-doom forty from the day we fetched firewood. The snow’s still deep, but it’s clearly not trying to murder us anymore.
“So… nature walk?” Naomi asks, a little breathless as she trudges after us. “Maybe some light birdwatching? That would qualify as ‘thrilling’ after being cooped up so long."
“I’m pretty sure what we’re about to do involves less birds and more velocity,” I tell her, falling into step at her side.
Silas reaches the shed and yanks the door open with unnecessary drama. “Damn it's been a while,” he mutters, sounding pleased.
Inside, lined up next to neat stacks of firewood, are four beautiful old-school wooden toboggans.
Naomi stops dead. “You have sleds.”
“Four of them,” I say proudly.
She steps in, running a gloved hand along one. “So we’re… sledding? Like, down a hill, fast?”
“Look at you, putting the clues together,” Silas says, mouth quirking. “Yes. We are, in fact, going to throw ourselves down the slope just a few yards away. It’ll be great.”
Her expression flickers between horrified and intrigued. “I should probably mention I’ve never actually done this before.”
“What?” I gasp. “Never?”
“City kid,” she says. “Our winter sport is fighting for a cab.”
“That is the saddest sentence I’ve heard all week,” I say solemnly. “We’re fixing it immediately.”
“Can I object on grounds of self-preservation?”
“Overruled,” Silas calls, already dragging one sled out and trudging up to where the hill starts. It’s a long, gentle slope that spills out into a wide, empty field of snow. Perfect for a beginner and experienced fools like us. “Watch and learn, counselor.”
He drops onto the sled, gives one solid shove, and rockets down. For a second, it looks like he's going to wipe out spectacularly, but he doesn't. He executes a perfect run, spraying snow at the bottom like he's in a Mountain Dew commercial.
Liam goes next, whooping as he rockets downhill, arms out.
“Your turn,” I tell Naomi.
She clutches her sled to her chest. “Any advice?"
"Don’t die.”
"Super helpful, thanks."
