“Bad enough to explain all her symptoms. Bad enough that she needs treatment immediately and some of her problemsmight be permanent.” He runs a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of agitation. “I’ve already called her mother. They’re taking Maya to Fairbanks tonight to get her admitted to the hospital for treatment.”
I sink into a chair, the implications overwhelming me.
I was right.
But children are sick, maybe even dying.
I was right.
And we still have no idea how to fix it.
THIRTY-THREE
NOAH
Heat Mountain’sannual Winter Fair has transformed our sleepy town center into something from a Christmas card—twinkling lights, evergreen garlands, and red ribbons adorning every lamppost and storefront. The air smells like pine, snow and the apple cinnamon of cider donuts, a combination that instantly transports me back to childhood winters.
“Holy shit, this is amazing!” Holly presses her face against the passenger window like an excited kid. “Look at all the lights!”
Her enthusiasm hits me through our bond—a burst of childlike wonder that makes my chest tighten. I park the SUV in one of the few remaining spots near the square and kill the engine.
“Wait till you see the food booths,” Kai says from the backseat, already unbuckling. “Mrs. Peterson makes these gingerbread cookies that’ll change your life.”
Grayson grunts in agreement, practically an effusive response from him.
Holly practically bounces out of the car, her breath forming little clouds in the frigid air. The temperature’s dropped to singledigits, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care. Her eyes are wide, taking in the transformed town square.
Local vendors have set up wooden stalls selling everything from hand-knitted scarves to smoked salmon. Tourists and locals alike wander between the booths, clutching steaming cups and paper bags of treats. A massive Christmas tree dominates the center of the square, dripping with ornaments and topped with a silver star that catches the light.
Holly’s face is transformed by pure delight. It hits me suddenly—this is her first Christmas in Heat Mountain. Her first Christmas with us. The thought settles in my chest with unexpected weight.
I want to make this the best one she’s ever had.
“Where should we start?” she asks, turning to us with that smile that still knocks me sideways.
“Food,” Kai says immediately.
“Shopping,” I counter. “Food after.”
Grayson doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on Holly. He clearly plans to follow wherever she leads.
“Compromise,” Holly suggests, linking her arm through mine. “We shop our way to the food stalls.”
The casual touch sends warmth through me despite the cold. I’m still getting used to this—Holly’s easy affection, the way she reaches for me without hesitation. For someone who spent years avoiding touch to hide her designation, she’s remarkably tactile now. With us, at least.
We start at the edge of the square, where an out-of-town vendor is selling hand-blown glass ornaments. Holly examines each one carefully, holding them up to catch the light. Her smile is wistful as she picks one up to examine it more closely, before setting it back down.
I make a note of any place her gaze lingers for more than a few seconds, planning to come back to the stall and buy as many as I can carry when she isn’t paying attention.
The happy surprise on her face on Christmas morning is already the present I’m anticipating most.
“We should pick presents while we’re here,” Kai suggests, eyeing a booth selling handcrafted jewelry. “Secret Santa style.”
Holly frowns. “Why can’t we just shop together? Then everyone gets what they actually want.”
I laugh, unsurprised by her pragmatism. “That’s not how Christmas works, sweetheart. Half the fun is not knowing what you’re getting until you rip off the wrapping paper and open the box.”
“But what if you buy something I don’t like?” she asks, genuinely confused.
