Chapter 2

"Eric, Owen is hypothermic. We need emergency rescue. Now." My voice was a raw, shredded rasp.

Silence on the other end for two seconds. Then, a dismissive laugh.

"Come on, Claire, stop messing around. It hasn't even been that long. Daniel said he just needs to experience a little hardship. He’s a boy, he can tough it out."

"I am not messing around!" I screamed. "His lips are turning blue! Do you understand me? I need a rescue team, right now!"

Maybe it was the sheer terror in my voice, but Eric finally dropped the laugh. Still, he sounded entirely unbothered.

"Alright, I'll radio some people nearby and see. Just don't overreact, Claire. Daniel knows what he's doing—"

The connection died again.

Eric didn't report the emergency to dispatch. He listened to Daniel and treated my plea for my son's life as a hysterical wife's overreaction.

With the radio dead, the world shrank to the sound of the wind and Owen’s fading breaths.

"Owen. Owen, talk to Mommy." I didn't dare move him anymore. I curled my body around his, acting as a human windbreak, calling his name over and over to keep him tethered to consciousness.

He managed to pry his eyes open a fraction. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Mommy... I'm so tired... Is Dad mad at me? Is that why he left...?"

"No, baby. Dad isn't mad at you." I crushed him to my chest.

But my own body heat was draining fast. Despair buried me, heavy and suffocating as the snow.

I don't know how much later it was when voices and flashlight beams finally cut through the whiteout.

"Over there! We got someone!"

Several figures in professional alpine gear fought their way toward us. The woman leading the pack had sharp, short hair. The moment she saw us, her face went rigid. She dropped to her knees.

"What happened to the kid?" She pressed two fingers to Owen's carotid artery.

"Severe hypothermia. Don't rub his extremities, keep movements minimal. Insulate him from the ground and the wind, protect the core and neck. We're evacuating immediately. We'll start active rewarming in the rig."

She moved with absolute precision, stripping off Owen's wet base layers and swaddling him in thermal blankets.

"It's just the two of you?" she asked, her brow furrowed, words clipping out fast.

I opened my mouth. Just explaining it felt like swallowing glass.

"His father... had something to do. He hiked down first."

The woman's eyes sharpened into daggers. She glanced at the raging storm, then back at me. She didn't press for details, but her jaw tightened.

"I'm Mara Bennett. Rocky Mountain National Park Dispatch got a risk alert that climbers might still be stranded in this sector. They requested our volunteer team to sweep the evacuation route. We saw shadows in the snow and doubled back."

She looked me dead in the eye. "I've updated RMNP Dispatch. We need to get down to the lower-elevation rendezvous point right now. Can you walk?"

I nodded fiercely. If it meant saving Owen, I would crawl on my hands and knees.

Mara's team was elite. They took turns carrying Owen and supporting me, breaking trail through the brutal storm. Every step felt like plunging into freezing quicksand. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled, my eyes never leaving Owen's ash-pale face.

By the time we cleared the most dangerous exposed section, night had completely fallen.

During a brief pause, Mara shoved a thermos into my hands. "Drink. Your lips are turning blue, too."

The hot water slid down my throat. I fumbled for my pockets, only to remember my phone had died long ago.

Mara saw my panic and handed me her own phone. "Need to call family? I've got a sliver of signal here. Try it."

I punched in Daniel's number.

The dial tone rang in my ear, each ring a hammer strike against my ribs.

Seven rings. Eight.

Just as I thought it would go to voicemail, the line clicked open.