Chapter 4

By morning, St. Jude’s had heat. It did not, however, have order.

Two families were fighting over the warmest classroom. Someone had stolen food, and Mrs. Bell’s oxygen machine blocked the only corridor.

We had survived the storm.

Now we had to survive each other.

I gathered everyone in the main hallway.

“We have food for five days. Fuel for three,” I said. “Children, medical patients, and the elderly sleep closest to the radiators. Everyone else takes shifts. No one is exempt.”

A man who had guarded the doors through the night frowned.

“And who gave you the right to decide?”

“No one,” I answered.

The question unsettled him.

“I’m not asking you to follow me because of a title,” I continued. “I’m asking because without order, this place will become another Snowridge.”

I divided the responsibilities.

Mara controlled medical care. Kael managed supplies. Those who could work repaired the school and guarded the entrances.

Within an hour, panic became structure.

Damon watched from the reception desk, his arms crossed.

“You gave the weakest people the warmest rooms,” he said.

“They are the ones who will die first without it.”

His eyes moved across the people working together.

“Rowan gave you a title,” he said quietly. “But he gave the work to the wrong woman.”

I looked away, refusing to let those words affect me.

Across the valley, the Snowridge command center received an automated alert.

ST. JUDE’S ACADEMY: HEATING RESTORED. OCCUPANCY CONFIRMED.

Rowan read the message twice.

“Has she requested fuel?”

“No.”

“Medical supplies?”

“No.”

“Then what did she ask for?”

The guard lowered his eyes.

“Nothing.”

Rowan stared at the security feed.

Anya was standing inside the abandoned school, surrounded by the people Snowridge had discarded.

For five years, he had believed she stayed beside him because she needed him.

Now he understood the truth.

She had stayed because she chose him.

And he had spent years believing her devotion was something he owned.

He had mistaken loyalty for weakness.

Elena stepped closer, staring at the screen.

“She still has the ring.”

Rowan’s gaze moved to the faded crest above the basement door.

His expression changed.

“She doesn’t know what she found.”

“Then we need to reach her before she learns the truth,” Elena whispered.

Rowan looked at the woman on the screen one last time.

The woman who had rebuilt a place without him.

The woman who was no longer waiting to come home.

“Prepare the trucks.”

The guard hesitated.

“Are we bringing Luna Anya back?”

Rowan’s voice turned cold.

“No.”

His eyes stayed on the silver ring beneath her glove.

“We’re taking the ring.”