Chapter 3

"Hello?"

In the background, I could hear soft café music and light laughter.

Daniel's voice dripped with the annoyance of a man interrupted.

"Daniel! It's me! Owen is—"

He cut me off instantly. "Why are you calling from this number? What's wrong with Owen now?"

"He's hypothermic! It's severe! We're evacuating, but we need rescue! We need a car to take us to the ER right now!" I was babbling, tears mixing with the melting snow on my face.

Silence on the line for two seconds.

I literally heard the sound of a straw slurping a drink.

When Daniel spoke, his tone was pure, condescending skepticism. "We haven't even been apart that long. How could he be hypothermic? Are you being dramatic again?"

My blood ran ice cold.

"Daniel, I am not! The rescue team confirmed it! Owen is losing consciousness! Please, call dispatch, or drive up here to get us—"

"I can't leave right now," he refused flatly. "Paige was drinking her boba and walking, and she twisted her ankle. I just got her to the urgent care clinic. We're waiting for the doctor. Isn't Eric down there? Call him."

"Eric said he'd radio someone, but he never came! Daniel, this is your son! Get up here!" I was begging, stripping away every ounce of my dignity.

His voice spiked with anger. "Claire, stop exaggerating."

"Paige has an emergency here too! What do you want me to do, split myself in half?"

"Your son is dying! How is that the same thing?!" I shrieked.

He snapped. "Can you stop throwing the word 'dying' around? Don't say things like that."

"Owen is a boy. He can tough it out. Stop scaring yourself. Handle it the way I taught you, hike down slowly, and call me when you have a better signal. I'll come get you when I'm done—"

He was interrupted.

Through the phone, Paige's whiny, tearful voice came through crystal clear. "Daniel, please... my ankle hurts so bad. Where is the doctor? Come sit with me, okay? I'm scared by myself..."

Daniel's tone instantly softened. "Alright, Paige, don't be scared. I'm coming."

Then he spoke into the phone to me, his voice returning to a cold, rushed clip. "Do what I said. I'm hanging up."

"Daniel!"

The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I stood frozen in the snow, the phone pressed to my face. The blood in my veins turned to slush.

Mara had been standing right next to me. She snatched the phone from my hand, her face dark with fury, and muttered a vicious curse at the black screen.

She looked at my shattered expression, gave my shoulder a hard squeeze, and turned to her team.

"Pick up the pace," she barked. "Update Dispatch. Tell the rendezvous vehicle to prep active rewarming gear, and notify Estes Park Health Emergency Department to prep a trauma bay. Move!"

The team surged forward. Mara carried Owen herself, her strides rapid and steady.

I followed mechanically. My brain simply looped the audio of that phone call.

His annoyance. His gaslighting.

His choice to sit with a woman who twisted her ankle while drinking boba tea.

The click of the phone hanging up.

Don't say things like that.

The wind chewed through my bones. Owen's small head lolled against Mara's shoulder, his face pressed against her freezing hardshell jacket.

I reached out and brushed his cheek.

Ice.

"I'm sorry, Owen..." My whisper was torn away by the storm. "I picked the wrong man to be your father."

Chapter 3

"Hello?"

In the background, I could hear soft café music and light laughter.

Daniel's voice dripped with the annoyance of a man interrupted.

"Daniel! It's me! Owen is—"

He cut me off instantly. "Why are you calling from this number? What's wrong with Owen now?"

"He's hypothermic! It's severe! We're evacuating, but we need rescue! We need a car to take us to the ER right now!" I was babbling, tears mixing with the melting snow on my face.

Silence on the line for two seconds.

I literally heard the sound of a straw slurping a drink.

When Daniel spoke, his tone was pure, condescending skepticism. "We haven't even been apart that long. How could he be hypothermic? Are you being dramatic again?"

My blood ran ice cold.

"Daniel, I am not! The rescue team confirmed it! Owen is losing consciousness! Please, call dispatch, or drive up here to get us—"

"Eric said he'd radio someone, but he never came! Daniel, this is your son! Get up here!" I was begging, stripping away every ounce of my dignity.

His voice spiked with anger. "Claire, stop exaggerating."

"Paige has an emergency here too! What do you want me to do, split myself in half?"

"Your son is dying! How is that the same thing?!" I shrieked.

He snapped. "Can you stop throwing the word 'dying' around? Don't say things like that."

"Owen is a boy. He can tough it out. Stop scaring yourself. Handle it the way I taught you, hike down slowly, and call me when you have a better signal. I'll come get you when I'm done—"

He was interrupted.

Through the phone, Paige's whiny, tearful voice came through crystal clear. "Daniel, please... my ankle hurts so bad. Where is the doctor? Come sit with me, okay? I'm scared by myself..."

Daniel's tone instantly softened. "Alright, Paige, don't be scared. I'm coming."

Then he spoke into the phone to me, his voice returning to a cold, rushed clip. "Do what I said. I'm hanging up."

"Daniel!"

The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I stood frozen in the snow, the phone pressed to my face. The blood in my veins turned to slush.

Mara had been standing right next to me. She snatched the phone from my hand, her face dark with fury, and muttered a vicious curse at the black screen.

She looked at my shattered expression, gave my shoulder a hard squeeze, and turned to her team.

"Pick up the pace," she barked. "Update Dispatch. Tell the rendezvous vehicle to prep active rewarming gear, and notify Estes Park Health Emergency Department to prep a trauma bay. Move!"

The team surged forward. Mara carried Owen herself, her strides rapid and steady.

I followed mechanically. My brain simply looped the audio of that phone call.

His annoyance. His gaslighting.

His choice to sit with a woman who twisted her ankle while drinking boba tea.

The click of the phone hanging up.

Don't say things like that.

The wind chewed through my bones. Owen's small head lolled against Mara's shoulder, his face pressed against her freezing hardshell jacket.

I reached out and brushed his cheek.

Ice.

"I'm sorry, Owen..." My whisper was torn away by the storm. "I picked the wrong man to be your father."