“I know.” She did know. She'd felt the same terror when the avalanche hit, and again when the oxygen ran out.
The terror of thinking she’d never see him again.
“But you found me.”
Ben reached for a giant plastic cup with a wide straw and brought it to her lips. She sipped on the cold water and it tasted like ambrosia.
“Twenty-eight minutes.” Ben's jaw was tight. “You were under the snow for twenty-eight minutes. Without that oxygen canister—” He stopped. Swallowed hard. “Viv's oxygen saved both of you.”
Charlie's heart clenched. “How is Viv?”
“She's ready to make a superhero show all about you, that's how she is.”
“I was just doing my job.”
Ben squeezed her hand. “Viv is fine. Hypothermic, bruised ribs, shaken up, but fine.”
“So a superhero series?”
Ben's smile was genuine this time. “I think her exact words were 'a six-foot-tall badass female bodyguard who scares avalanches.'“
Charlie huffed out a laugh, then winced. “Ow. Don't make me laugh.”
“Sorry.”
Charlie took inventory of herself. Her left shoulder was bandaged and immobilized. Her ribs were wrapped tight. Her left leg was elevated in some kind of brace.
“How bad do I look?” she asked.
“You look beautiful.”
She knew he was biased, but at the same time, he looked like he wanted to memorize every detail of her face, so she believed him.
Ben's expression turned serious. “Gunshot wound to your left shoulder. The bullet hit your beacon first, so the vest caught most of it, but fragments from the beacon casing caused lacerations. You needed surgery to remove the shrapnel and repair the damage to a tendon. Three cracked ribs. Moderate frostbite on your left foot and minor on your fingers. You'll make a full recovery, but it'll take time. Hypothermia. You were at ninety-two degrees when we pulled you out.”
Charlie absorbed that.
It could have been so much worse.
“Rowan?” she asked.
“Rowan's fine. Hypothermic and bruised, but he got lucky—ended up closer to the surface and he had an oxygen can. He says he’s forever in your debt for saving his fiancée, by the way.” Charlie smiled, then she grew serious.
“Duke?”
Ben's expression darkened. “Duke's battered but alive. His armor protected him from the worst of it. He rode a tree like a surfboard and ended up close to the edge, in shallower snow.”
Charlie took a deep breath and steeled herself.
“And…Maddie?”
“Dead.” Ben's voice was flat.
Charlie closed her eyes. She saw that triumphant smile all over again. “She never even tried to save herself. Just... stoodthere and let it take her. Maddie had wanted to die as long as Duke died with her.”
“It turns out,” Ben said quietly, “she wasn't lying about Duke. He did use her. Told her he loved her. Strung her along while she did his dirty work.” He paused. “Doesn't let her off the hook for what she did, but... Duke's no longer seeing his costar, though he probably won't lose his new role.”
Charlie opened her eyes. “It would be funny if there were an anonymous online campaign?—”
