if you don’t answer me back in 5 seconds I’m going to call your mum
called your mum. she said signal there’s rubbish. we’re trying not to panic but
honestly, if someone was going to kill you, it would be a place without signal
PICK UP YOUR PHONE ASAP
The mobile barely rang before Piper answered, her high soprano voice breaking through. “Elizabeth Jane Snow!” she exploded. “You’realive? I was two seconds away from making a missing person’s TikTok account!”
“I’m fine,” Eliza laughed. “I didn’t mean to ghost you, my phone’s had no signal. I got snowed in, and— ” she tried to explain.
“You didn’tjustghost me. You left me on read, and then haunted my ever-waking thoughts until you answered. I was just starting to plan your funeral playlist!”
Eliza snorted, seeming genuinely cheered up. Leave it to Piper for that. “Let me guess. Lots of Taylor Swift and Adele on loop?”
“Of course. Festive, but also respectfully tasteful.” Piper paused. “But enough about your funeral—we won’t need the playlist for a few more years, hopefully. Since you never answered earlier ...ishe fit?”
Eliza rolled her eyes. Her friend sounded like one of those girls in the movies who curled the cord in their finger as they gossiped on an old landline. “He’s not hard on the eyes, and I think he knows it.”
“Tell me everything right now! Who is he? Is he single? Is he the Airbnb host? A lost hiker? A Hallmark lumberjack?”
“He’s none of those, unfortunately.” Eliza blew out a breath. “Except for the single part, I’m not sure about that.” She thought for a moment. Surely no one in a serious relationship with someone would take a week-long trip by themselves, especially during Christmas. “He’s staying here with me. The Airbnb was double-booked.”
Piper squealed so loud that Eliza had to remove her ear from the phone. “This is a Hallmark knockoff at the minimum! This gives a “hard launch winter romance” vibe all the way. Imagine how many likes you’d get from TikTok on a story like this!”
She groaned. “It’s nothing but a hard launch migraine, trust me.”
Piper ignored her. “Does he chop wood? He totally chops wood, doesn’t he?”
Eliza glanced out the window, seeing him shoveling in the distance, flannel underneath his coat and all. “He burned a frozen pizza. Does that count?”
She wasnotabout to tell her that the house was magical and tried forcing the two of them together whenever it got the chance.
“Oh no,” Piper gasped. “He’sdamaged. You can fix him. No, really, you can.”
“I’m not fixinganyone, Piper. I just want to be alone.” She rolled onto her side, letting her voice drop. “He’s not terrible. We’re just mostly annoyed with each other by the circumstances.”
“That’s absolutely what someone in love would say,” Piper said.
Eliza didn’t respond.
Piper let out a sigh. “Well, sometimes good things can come from the unexpected. You deserve good.”
Eliza’s throat tightened, and she sat up. That was her cue to hang up. “Hey, I gotta go. The oven just went off. Burning some biscuits as we speak!”
“Love you! Send me hourly updates. I want all the deets. The longing stares, the mistletoe kisses, the snowball fights. Now that I’m fairly positive you’re not going to get murdered, I’m living vicariously through you.”
“Love you too,” Eliza giggled. “Bye.” She shook her head, clicking the red “end” button.
Eliza still had one more unread message. From Davis.
I’m sorry you felt hurt last week, but I think my motives were misinterpreted. You know the business was always safest in my hands. I was the one with all the ideas, anyway. I put in so much time and effort for you, more than anyone else would’ve, and it still didn’t seem like enough. It was just so exhausting trying to prove myself to someone who doesn’t appreciate everything I’ve done. Enjoy your getaway. Hopefully, you’ll get some closure. It’s for the best this way.
Eliza’s hands shook as she read the text, a pit forming at the base of her stomach.
One day, she’d know how much she dodged a bullet. But right now, it was hard not to wonder if he was right. If she truly was the problem. If the business truly was better left to Davis.
Honeycomb. That had been the name of the bakery she started. The nickname her nan gave her one tiring, sugar-filled day when Eliza was too short to see over the kitchen counter.
