After a while—minutes, years, who knows—the road tilts more sharply. I recognize this stretch by instinct: the avalanche zone. Even buried in white, the shape of the land, the way the wind moves, the subtle hollow of the slope sings danger.
The warning marker should be close.
I push forward until the headlamp beam strikes orange.
The sign rises from the drift like a buried bone—tall post, reflective stripes, the faded words barely visible beneath ice.
AVALANCHE AREA--NO UNNECESSARY TRAVEL
“I swear to God, kid,” I pant, “if you decided to take a scenic route—”
My lamp slides down the post.
And finds her.
She is curled at the base of the marker like a dropped doll, half-buried in a wind-carved scoop. Her hat has slipped sideways; her hair is a dark smear against the white. Her backpack hangs off one shoulder, one strap twisted like she tried to drag it farther and failed.
For a second—one terrible, endless second—I think I’m too late.
My heart stops.
Then I see it: a small, tremoring movement of her fingers, pressed weakly into the snow.
“Violet!”
I drop to my knees so fast my joints scream. Snow surges beneath me and spills over my boots, freezing my socks instantly.
Her eyes flutter open. They’re unfocused, pupils too wide, irises glassy.
“Hey,” I say, breath coming too harsh, too loud. “Hey, I’ve got you.”
She blinks up at me like she’s looking through water. “Jax?”
The sound of my own name from her mouth nearly undoes me.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. You picked a hell of a place for a nap.”
Her lips quirk weakly. “T-tired.”
Her words slur. I pull off one glove with my teeth, fingers instantly burning, and touch her cheek.
Too cold. Too damn cold.
“How long have you been out here?” I ask.
She frowns, as if trying to remember. “Dunno. The world… keeps tilting.”
I push her hood back gently, checking her forehead, then her neck—pulse weak and racing all at once.
“Okay,” I murmur. “We’re doing this the smart way.”
Her gaze slides downward, unfocused, landing on the bright crumpled wrapper buried near her hand.
“Dropped… gummies,” she whispers. “Got… dizzy.”
Emergency glucose. Ava showed me the stash once. Violet must’ve tried.
Must’ve not made it.
