My pulse kicks up slightly.
I try to sit up, but my limbs protest, weak. My head feels thick, like I’ve been drugged, though I know it’s just the cold. Exposure. Maybe shock.
My mouth is dry. My lips are cracked. But I whisper anyway, voice rasping into the stillness.
“Hello?”
The door creaks. And then footsteps.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice is gentle, almost chipper, and oddly grounding. “That’ll make Sam happy,” Phern says, stepping closer to the bed.
She comes into view slowly. Dark hair loose now, a thick cardigan wrapped around her short frame, a mug cradled in her hands. She smells like coffee and cinnamon.
“He’s been pretty worried about you.”
My throat is dry as dust. I try to sit up again, managing a slight shift this time.
“Wh—what time is it?” I croak.
“Nine in the morning,” she replies, glancing at a delicate watch on her wrist.
I blink. Morning? That doesn’t feel real. I glance toward the window. The shutters are closed, but through a small gap I can see the sky, dark and shifting, clouds thick as wool.
Phern follows my gaze. “Snow storm’s still raging, but the radio says it should break sometime this afternoon.” Sheshakes her head, making a face. “These damn spring storms are the worst. Come out of nowhere, dump six feet of snow, and then vanish like they weren’t just trying to kill you.”
I huff a faint laugh. It hurts a little.
She sits lightly on the edge of the bed, setting the mug down on the nearby table.
“I brought you some peppermint tea. It’s probably still too hot, but when you’re ready…” She trails off, studying me with kind, curious eyes. “You scared the hell out of him, you know.”
A beat passes. The words settle heavily in my chest.
Sam Stone. Worried. About me. I swallow hard, unsure how to feel about that.
“Wh—where is he?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“In the stable,” Phern says, not missing a beat. “Taking care of the horses.”
She watches me carefully as I shift, finally managing to sit upright. The room tilts before steadying around me. My head throbs, but at least I’m upright.
“He said he found you stranded in our driveway,” she adds, her voice gentle but pointed.
I nod slowly. “Yeah.”
She hums, almost thoughtfully. “Kind of far away from town to get accidentally stranded.”
I reach for the mug of tea with shaky hands, using it as a shield. “Got lost,” I mutter.
Silence stretches between us. Heavy. Unblinking.
Then, Phern leans forward, elbows resting lightly on her knees. “I’m going to be real with you, Charlotte.”
There’s no edge in her tone. No sharpness. Just calm honesty.
“I looked you up.”
My stomach tightens.
