“Good. Now that we’re all on the same page—meaningmypage, not the fantasy coloring book some of y’all been flipping through—welcome to the official Snowed-In Cabin Survival Briefing. Subtitle: ‘How Not to Freeze… or Piss Me Off,” Bryce announced, his voice deep and clear like a man who didn’t repeat himself often.”
Isis rolled her eyes with a loud, theatrical sigh. “Oh my God.”
He ignored her and read off the first line, loud and clear.
“Rule Number One. Wait. Actually… I won’t even count this as a survivor rule. But every time somebody says, ‘I’m bored,’ ‘this is stupid,’ or anything that sounds like whining, you owe either ten push-ups or a chore. My choice.” But every ‘I’m cold’ gets you firewood duty. No negotiation.”
Isis threw her hands up. “So we can’t even express feelings now?! Wow! This is emotional abuse!”
“That right there?” Bryce pointed. “That’s one chore.”
“This is—"
“Two,” Bryce said calmly.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation and chimed in. “Girl, please hush before you end up scrubbing the whole cabin. And while we’re at it… can Isis and Adrian share a section on that clipboard labeled ‘unhelpful and annoying’?”
Adrian straightened his posture, indignation pooling in his voice. “For real, Chess?I’m here trying to enjoy my time—”
Bryce interjected sharply. “Time you wouldn’t even have if you didn’tbegto come. Let’s not try to rewrite history like this wasyourAirbnb booking.”
Adrian shrugged. “So what? Chesteria said I could come. She could’ve easily saidno.”
Bryce stepped forward, his impressive frame dwarfing Adrian.
“Exactly.Shesaid yes… not me. Just like I said, yes—against my better judgment—when Isis invited herself. Neither of y’all was on the original itinerary. Hell, me and Chesteria didn’t even know the other was coming. So don’t act like you part of the foundation.” He pointed between them. “If I knew what I know now, Isis would be back home exfoliating her elbows with caviar and spritzing her plants with Evian. And had I known Chesteria was bringing you along, andIhad any say in it, nigga, you’d be somewhere in the city dodging child support and hustling out of somebody else’s grandma’s house.”
Isis crossed her arms defiantly, lifting her chin with the kind of extravagant flair that only she could pull off effortlessly.
“Okay,yes,Ivolunteeredmy presence, andno,I’m not ashamed of that. You said‘cool’,so here I am. Y’all really should feelluckythat I felt generous enough to bless y’all with my presence. I could be at a wine-tasting right now, learning about oak notes and the legacies of pristine vineyards.”
I turned slowly toward her. “And instead, you’ve been loud and dramatic since you got here. Honestly? You’ve been louderthan the wind, and more exaggerated than Adrian’s sympathy-seeking limp.”
Adrian perked up. “Whoa. First of all… this limp is real.”
I arched a brow. “So is my regret. And Isis, beluckythat we didn’t stick your name under ‘Noise Complaints’ and let the bears handle it.”
Before Isis could clap back with her usual sass, Bryce raised his voice, sharp and commanding.
“Aye! Enough of that shit!”
I flinched at the sudden intensity, his words hitting the room like the slam of a door.
“Everybody—including me—got one minute to cool off…one. Then we going over the rules. We got sidetracked, and I’m not repeating myself again. If you still feel like arguing instead of cooperating, grab your boots and good luck hiking.”
He glanced at the clock hanging innocently on the wall before sweeping his gaze around the room, daring anyone to challenge him.
“Timer starts now.”
Silence.
He nodded after the minute passed. “Good. Now let’s survive this snowstorm… preferably without killing each other.Officialrule number one…one shower a day. Bathroom time limit is seven minutes max.”
Isis sat up so quickly that the plush robe she wore slipped off her shoulder, exposing a glimmer of gold chain jewelry. “Seven minutes?!” she gasped, her voice shooting up an octave in disbelief. “Bryce, I can’t even properly pre-rinse my soul in seven minutes!”
Bryce gave her a slow, unimpressed look. “Isis, you’re not baptizing yourself; you’re washing yo’ ass.”
“I have other ‘feminine needs’ too!” she argued, her tone rising in protest. “And I’ve got plumbing needs, thank you very much.If the water runs out, I ain’t digging nobody a well, especially not for your spa day.”
