Chapter 4

Mara's team pushed themselves to the absolute limit, using their own bodies to shield us from the wind.

Owen was in my arms again, his breaths as fragile as spun glass. Every shallow rise of his chest terrified me.

When we finally broke through to the drivable rendezvous point, the National Park EMS ambulance was already idling in the storm, paramedics waiting with a stretcher.

Eric's SUV was parked right next to the rig.

He had clearly beaten the ambulance here, but he hadn't taken a single step up the mountain.

When he saw us stumble out of the whiteout—especially Owen, unconscious in Mara's arms—he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, look at that, Claire. You guys actually hiked it down. Is Owen... just tired and napping?"

His tone was breezy, laced with a smug I told you so.

"He is comatose from severe hypothermia!" Mara roared. "You should have been up that mountain the second you got the distress call, and you damn well should have notified Dispatch!"

The paramedics had already taken Owen. They rapidly checked his vitals, adjusted the thermal wraps, and secured him in the rig.

Eric's smirk vanished. "Daniel called me a bit ago to check in. I told him you guys were hiking down on your own, getting some good training in. I figured the kid was just cold. Walking it off builds character..."

His voice trailed off, but he was still trying to justify it. "Paige twisted her ankle. Daniel had to secure his client first. It's not like he had no reason."

Mara stared at him with absolute disgust. "A child was losing consciousness in a blizzard, and you chose to sit in your heated truck. You can explain that to the Park Rangers."

I gripped Owen's freezing hand, praying I could force my own life into his veins. His face was a terrifying, bloodless gray.

The paramedic slammed the ambulance doors shut.

The sirens wailed, tearing down the mountain toward Estes Park Health.

I sat in the back, watching Owen disappear beneath a tangle of wires, monitors, and warming blankets. The only sound was the sharp, clipped communication of the medics.

Mara rode with us.

I stared blankly at the snow flying past the window. My mind kept looping the call.

His annoyance. His gaslighting. His choice.

Don't say things like that.

We hit the ER. The trauma team was waiting at the doors. They rushed Owen straight into the resuscitation room.

The heavy doors clicked shut.

I collapsed into a hard plastic chair in the hallway, my eyes locked on those doors. Mara sat beside me in silence, gripping my hand.

Time stretched into razor wire.

I don't know how long it was before the doors finally opened.

The attending physician walked out. Above his surgical mask, his eyes were heavy with exhaustion.

Before he even spoke, the remaining warmth in my body died.

"I am so sorry. We did everything we could. The severe hypothermia triggered multisystem organ failure. He was brought in too late..."

I didn't hear the rest.

The world went completely mute, replaced by a high-pitched ringing. I shoved Mara away, trying to run into the room, but my legs gave out. I hit the floor hard.

"Claire!" Mara dropped down, catching me as I sobbed tearlessly.

Right then, footsteps echoed down the hall, accompanied by Daniel's irritated voice.

"What the hell is going on? You couldn't even explain it on the phone!"

Then, a woman's whiny complaint. "Daniel, slow down, my ankle still hurts..."

Daniel strode into view, his brow furrowed, looking thoroughly inconvenienced. Paige limped behind him, draped in his expensive alpine jacket, holding a half-empty cup of boba tea.

Seeing us outside the trauma bay, Daniel paused. "What's going on?"

But as he asked, his eyes darted back to Paige, making sure she was steady on her feet.

Paige took a sip of her boba, leaning against the wall, and muttered, "Why is everyone making such a big scene..."

Daniel walked up to me. He brought the scent of the freezing outdoors, mixed with the sickly sweet scent of boba tea.

He looked down at me, his frown deepening. "Claire, what is this? Where's Owen? Is he throwing a tantrum and refusing to come out?"

His voice held exhaustion. It held annoyance.

It held absolutely zero concern.

I slowly raised my head and looked at the man I had loved for over a decade.

My lips parted. My voice was a shredded rasp, yet eerily calm.

"Owen is gone."