Page 60 of Abdominal Snowman

“Don’t buy any tickets yet, please. I think… I think I need to do some more thinking first.”

Gabi sighed. “There she is. You sound more like yourself now. But don’t forget you’re allowed to feel things. Be angry. Fuck men! Go give that asshole a piece of your mind.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Sage nodded before remembering Gabi was on the phone. “I will, don’t worry.”

“I’ll be here if you need me though. Text me.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me.”

“Love you,” Sage said. Gabi would never know about the eye roll.

“Love you too.”

Once they hung up, Sage tucked the phone away and paced on the porch. She was still wearing her winter gear from town, so she huffed and stepped onto the gleaming snow.

It crunched under her boots, and unbidden, a smile curled her lips.

This place was magical.

And so was the occupant in the cabin behind her.

Her smile faded, and she lifted her gaze to stare out at the snow-covered trees. It was bright, brighter than Florida had ever been without the sun. Even in darkness, the snow cast the softest glow over everything.

But she wondered how far the snow piled up to her ankles would go. How far had Soren taken the ruse?

A vise tightened itself around her chest, and she took another step into the snow. Her boots were doing their job, she didn’t even feel a chill yet.

A pair of tracks led from the garage out to the main road. Sage couldn’t see it from the porch, and she didn’t recall noticing anything abrupt by the time they’d arrived in town.

A frown in place, she took another step, and another, until she was trudging through the snow with a mission. When she passed the rickety fence line, she glanced behind her and gaped at how close the house still was. She already felt like she’d walked forever. With a curse and a stubborn streak, she continued until she finally reached the main road. Soren had shoveled a bunch of it out of the more dangerous spots so they could get to town, but besides that, everything still looked the same depth.

Sage stalked across the snow-packed road and stared down the woods on the other side. They did seem a little darker than was safe, so she hovered at the edge of the road.

Well? Where are your answers? she wanted to ask.

But her only answer was the loud, slowly approaching crunches of someone coming closer.

She sucked in a deep breath, the chill assaulting her sinuses, but somehow refreshing her at the same time.

Still, when Soren finally stopped beside her, she was reminded of her tear tracks by the icy breeze that made them sting.

“My max is one mile, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said softly.

Sage swallowed. “That’s how far you can control the weather?”

“Yes.”

She chewed her lip as more questions sprang to mind. This was an olive branch of sorts, and if she wanted to give Soren a piece of her mind, she’d have to hear his explanation first.

“Is that one mile in each direction with you at the center, or…” She left her question open, crossing her arms.

Damn him. Dangling information out like that. But he didn’t even chuckle as he answered, “Kind of? If I’m at the center, I can control a half mile in each direction. So if I concentrate on both east and west…”

“Then that’s the mile,” she finished for him.

“Yeah.”