We’ll all be together.
Something orange flickersat the edge of my vision.
I turn to the window. A light—soft, unsteady, golden.
My breath catches. I cross the room. Through the blur of snow, something glows on the porch.
Lantern light.
I freeze, one hand against the glass. The wind lashes the windows, but that glow stays, small and stubborn against the dark.
He did this.
I fumble with the latch on the door and step onto the porch, hair whipping across my face. There are three more lanterns, half buried already.
He set them here. To keep me safe.
All the anger, the things I said—it drains out, and I sink to my knees on the porch boards, the cold biting through my jeans. For a moment, all I can do is stare at the small, stubborn glow of that little flame. How can the man who walked away without a word be the same man who’d cross a storm to make sure I’m safe?
I stare out at the endless snow, swallowing the yard, the sky, everything. I draw a breath, let it out slow.
Then my eyes land on the stable. A dark shape through the white. The little ponies—wondering when their dinner’s coming.
“Shoot!”
I can’t leave them to go hungry, just because there’s a power cut.
I grab my coat from the hook by the door, shove my arms through the sleeves, and plunge into the snow.
“Lila!”
I spin, heart slamming against my ribs. The voice comes again, closer this time, ragged in the storm.
“Lila, wait!”
Through the swirl of snow, Holt is running toward me, coat open, snow plastered in his hair.
He stops in front of me, chest heaving, breath pluming.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he hollers.
“I’ve gotta feed the ponies.” I can barely speak.
“Already done.”
My mouth falls open. “No way? Then you came and left the lanterns for me?”
“Yup.” He nods, eyes fierce and soft all at once. “But then I couldn’t go. Not after what you said. I needed to see you were okay.”
“I was angry,” I shout. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you gone forever.”
“I know.” His voice drops. “And I’m sorry. I left because I thought I was the worst thing that could happen to you. Turns out, leaving was.”
Something tight in my chest gives way.
I want to stay angry, but his voice, his face—none of it matches the man I thought I’d shut out.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
