She swallows. “I knew it was cruel, but I still believed them. Not because of you, but because it felt familiar. They were saying things I’ve heard my whole life.” Her eyes glisten. “So I went walking to clear my head. Only… my head wasn’t clearing. It was getting louder. And then I looked up and realised I’d walked myself into a place I didn’t understand.”
She pauses. A tear slips down her cheek. Another. She doesn’t bother brushing them away.
“I hated that you had to come for me,” she whispers. “I hated feeling helpless. I hated proving them right.”
I shake my head gently. “You didn’t prove anyone right.”
She doesn’t react at first. She just stares at her hands, blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. Then something in her expression shifts. Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.
“You know what’s strange?” she says slowly. “Up there… when everything was foggy and I couldn’t breathe… the voice in my head wasn’t the bakery women. Or my mum. It was yours.”
“Mine?”
She takes a shaky breath. “You telling me to stay still. You telling me I’m safe. You calling my name. And it made me think… how can anyone who doesn’t know me decide my worth? How can two bored women who don’t even know my surname get to dictate what I deserve?” She frowns slightly. “Why have I spentyears believing people who never cared about me… and doubting someone who clearly does?”
Something warm unfurls low in my chest.
She shakes her head at herself, almost in disbelief. “I think… I think they were wrong. All of them. Maybe they always were. Maybe the only people whose voices I’ve ever listened to were the ones who shouldn’t have had any power in the first place.”
Her eyes lift to mine, steady despite the tears.
“And maybe I almost threw away something good because of it.”
I swallow. Hard.
“So when I ask why you did all that for me today,” she continues, “I already know the answer. It’s because you wanted to. And because you meant it. And maybe… maybe I’m allowed to believe that now.”
She wipes her cheeks with the edge of the blanket, breathing out slowly as if releasing years of tightness from her chest.
She leans into me then, carefully, as though testing whether the moment will hold.
It does.
It holds easily.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. No speeches. No corrections. Just being there. The way she deserves someone to be there.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” I say.
She nods against my shoulder. “I’m glad you came.”
And for the first time since the phone rang, the fear in me finally settles into something gentler. Something hopeful.
Whatever comes next, she’s not fighting those voices alone anymore.
Chapter 18
Emma
The doctor finally returnswith my discharge notes and a kind smile. “You’re lucky,” she says. “Mild hypothermia, a few bruises, a very nasty fright. Rest for a couple of days and avoid any strenuous activity. And maybe stay off mountains during incoming storms.”
I manage a weak laugh. Alex squeezes my hand.
Before I can thank the doctor properly, the A&E doors burst open and a breathless Christina barrels inside, hair flying, voicetravelling halfway across the waiting room. “Bambi, for heaven’s sake, hurry up!”
Every head turns. A nurse snorts. Phil goes crimson from hairline to collar and tries to fold himself into his coat.
When Christina spots me, her whole expression softens and she’s at my chair in three strides. “Are you alright?” she asks, eyes sweeping my face as though checking for hidden injuries. Then she shoots Phil a look. “And you. I swear it took you fifteen years to actually spit out the words ‘Emma’s in hospital’. And the drive here… glaciers move faster.”
