1/
the sister from one of those cheesy christmas movies
12 hours earlier
holly
“Hi, my name is Holly, and about five weeks ago, I found out I was the side character in one of those cheesy Christmas movies—no, you can’t say that,” I muttered to myself, cutting the engine of my rental car outside a quaint, snow-dusted building with a perfectly maintained RCMP sign gleaming in the fading light of the setting sun.
I stepped out into one heck of a biting wind. This wasn’t Vancouver or even the subzero winter temps of Minnesota, where I grew up. No, this mountain cold was sharp. Unforgiving. I shivered, instantly regretting my choice of scrubs and sneakers under my winter coat, but I trudged through the fresh snow toward the station’s glass door anyway.
I was here for a reason, and the sooner I got answers, the sooner I could find food and a bathroom.
The door emitted an unexpected high-pitched buzz as I stepped inside, making me jump—then glance around the one-room station self-consciously.
Okay, why did a place this tiny even have a bell? It wasn’t like they needed one to announce visitors. The reception desk was right there, and beyond it, the entire space was visible from where I stood—a single high counter near the entrance, a plain desk pushed against the far wall, and a holding cell tucked into the back corner.
The station did have one cool feature, though...
An animatronic Mountie!
Dressed in the ceremonial scarlet red jacket and high brown hat I’d only ever seen the Royal Canadian Mounted Police wear during parades or prime minister speeches, he was absurdly handsome—clean-shaven, with sharp cheekbones and piercing brown eyes. Large, sinewy hands, lying flat on the counter.
And what a skin job! If not for his rigid posture and utter stillness, I might’ve mistaken him for someone who lived and breathed—a sexy, square-jawed Mountie straight out of some clueless American's fan-fic.
I reached out to touch his face, wondering aloud, “But why would a small mountain town spend so much money on a hot Mountie animatronic?—”
“May I help you?”
“Holy stuffing!” I squeaked, yanking my hand back. “I didn’t think you were real!”
The Mountie just stared back at me. Coldly.
Prompting me to carefully ask, “Are you real?”
“May I help you?” he repeated, tone flat, as if confirming his humanity was classified information.
“Sure, I mean, hi.” I awkwardly tried to recover from that painful first impression. “My name’s Holly Winters. I’m an American working in Vancouver. And I’m looking for my sister, Noelle. She’s also an American, but she was coming to visit me from Minnesota—where we both grew up before I moved away for a stupid,stupidreason that I totally lived to regret—but you don’t need to know all of that..."
The Mountie stared at me so blankly that I had to ask one more time: "Seriously, are you the right person to be talking to about this? Should I wait for an..."
I scrambled for a less insulting phrase thanactual human.
But the hot animatronic Mountie barked, “Continue!” before I could come up with anything.
“Okay, well, she lost her job, and she was supposed to come visit me in Vancouver in hopes of getting another one. But a few days before Christmas, she texted me saying she’d crashed her car in Bear Mountain, fell in love, and decided to stay here forever after knowing whoever this guy is for less than ten days. And when I pressed her for details, she texted back, ‘I’ve got to go radio silent for a while, but I'll give you a call in the spring to explain everything.’ Then nothing. She hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts since New Year’s Eve.”
I paused, waiting for him to jump in with a bunch of questions.
But he didn’t react. No polite nod. No flicker of surprise. He just stared back at me with a blank expression that made me wonder if his skin really was made of plastic. Really well-defined and impeccably sculpted plastic.
I pressed on. “So I cleared my schedule for the week and drove all the way up here from Vancouver to see if maybe you could help me locate her.”
“She’s already been located,” the possibly animatronic Mountie answered without blinking. “You said she texted you and explained her plans to stay here. Forever.”
“I mean, yeah, but…” I shook my head. “Surely you can see how crazy that sounds?”
Apparently, he could not. His expression remained a cold, completely unmoved blank. “She’s fine. Like she told you.”
