1. EMILY
I’m going to kill my ex.
Right on cue, my phone lights up with a text from Whit. It’s like the asshole has got some kind of sixth sense for when I’m thinking about him. The screen flashes with his name, and I feel the familiar tightening in my chest as I read his message: Are you going to be at the wedding?
I grit my teeth, my thumb hovering over the screen for a moment before I lock the phone and toss it onto the passenger seat. No way am I getting sucked into that right now. I’ve got enough on my plate without dealing with him.
The voices blaring out of the car’s dashboard radio are a welcome distraction. It’s some podcast about the weather, of all things, but the speakers’ animated tones are oddly comforting. One guy, with a deep, rumbling voice, is explaining the sudden shifts in weather patterns across Colorado.
“...and that’s why the storm system is so unpredictable here, especially as winter sets in,” he’s saying, sounding a little too excited about the possible chaos. What a dork. “We’re seeing a lot more rapid changes in temperature and pressure, which could lead to anything from flash floods to sudden snowstorms, even in areas that don’t typically see this kind of weather.”
“Right, and for those of you driving through the mountains today, keep an eye on those clouds,” a woman chimes in, her voice light but laced with concern. “There’ve been reports of quick shifts—clear skies one minute, and the next, you’re in the middle of a blizzard or worse. And don’t forget about the winds. They can whip up out of nowhere, especially on those mountain passes.”
“Exactly,” the man agrees. “If you’re traveling, make sure you’ve got an emergency kit in your car, and don’t take any risks. Better to be late than—well, you know.”
I snort. “Better to be late than dead, you mean,” I mutter under my breath, glancing at the GPS on my phone just to make sure I’m still on the right track. The little blue dot tells me I’m moving in the right direction, but there’s still a long way to go. Three more hours.
Great.
The rental car hums beneath me, a small, compact thing I picked up just outside the airport. It’s not much, but it has decent mileage and was cheap enough to fit into my budget. I’ve already sunk way too much into this trip, between the flight, the dress, and now this car. All for my best friend’s wedding. I sigh, rubbing my temples as I think about the festivities ahead. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion but with Whit there…
A flash of motion to my left snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance up just in time to see a massive truck barreling toward me, veering into my lane as it passes another vehicle. My breath catches in my throat, and instinct takes over. I jerk the wheel to the right, my heart pounding as the car swerves out of the truck’s path. Tires screech against the asphalt, and for a terrifying moment, I’m sure I’m going to lose control. But then the car steadies, and I’m back in my lane, the truck roaring past me like nothing ever happened.
My hands are shaking as I grip the wheel, trying to calm the adrenaline surging through my veins. My heart is still racing, and I can feel the blood pounding in my ears. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the road ahead.
“Hope that’s not an omen,” I say to myself, raking my fingers through my hair.
Just then, my phone buzzes again. Hailey’s name flashes on the screen, and I can’t help but smile as I answer. She’s worth all of the trouble. We’ve been through thick and thin, and showing up for her is the least I could do. I know she’s mad that I didn’t show up earlier, but she doesn’t bring that up.
“Hey, Em! You on your way?” Hailey’s voice is bright, but I can hear the stress hiding beneath it. I picture her running around, probably with a checklist in one hand and a coffee in the other, trying to keep everything from falling apart.
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” I say, glancing at the GPS again. “Mt. Baker Snowlodge, right?”
I’m hoping, just for a split second, that she’ll tell me I’ve got the wrong place. Maybe it’s all a mix-up, and the wedding is actually somewhere less remote, less...snowy. But Hailey shatters that tiny hope.
As I’m talking to her, my phone lights up again; this time, it’s not another text. It’s Whit, his name glaring up at me from the screen like a bad joke. My stomach clenches with annoyance, but I force myself to focus on Hailey’s voice instead.
“Yep, that’s the place! It’s a little up the mountain, but it’s got the best views. You’ll love it, Em. Just drive right up there. The road’s a bit twisty, but you’ll be fine.”
I bite my lip, thinking about the storm warnings I just heard on the radio. “You sure the weather’s gonna hold out? I just heard something about a storm on the way.”
My gaze flickers back to the screen. Whit’s call goes to voicemail, but then it starts again, his name flashing insistently. My irritation bubbles up, but I shove it down, trying to keep my voice steady. I don’t understand what his problem is.
Hailey laughs, brushing off my concern as if the storm is no big deal. “Oh, you know how these mountain storms are. It will snow today and melt by tomorrow.”
“Right,” I say. “And Hailey, listen, I know you’re probably busy with preparations and I don’t want to spring this on you?—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she says, cutting me off. “I’m really sorry, but Sam invited Whit. I couldn’t exactly say no.”
My chest tightens at the mention of his name, but I force a light tone. “It’s fine, Hails. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
But can I?
“Are you sure?” Hailey says. “I know it was a bad breakup.”
“He cheated on me,” I say flatly. “Life happens.”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?’
“Take things in stride. That’s what you always do. You’re the bravest person I know, but sometimes it’s okay not to be okay.”
I remember what Whit told me when I found out. “I did it because you were a frigid bitch.”
I sigh. I know I can be a little uptight at times, but that’s because I’m self-reliant. A couple of Hailey’s other friends offered to drive with me up to the Lodge, but I declined the offer. I needed the ride to clear my head, get a fresh perspective. I already knew Whit was coming. He had texted me last week, first telling me that he had a new girlfriend he would bring to the wedding. And a few days later to ask me if I wanted to be his plus one.
Maybe I should have just driven up with someone.
“It’s okay. I can handle my cheating ex at your wedding. It’s about you and Sam, not me and Whit. I’ll just avoid the drama.”
Hailey sighs with relief, but there’s still a hint of worry in her voice. “I know you can. But if it gets too weird, Jace can keep you company. He’ll be there, too.”
Jace. The name sends a jolt through me, and despite myself, I feel my stomach flip. I haven’t seen him in years, not since we broke up. I’m not even sure how I feel about it—about him—but the thought of being around him again stirs something in me that I’m not ready to face.
“If you want, I can send Jace or one of his firefighter friends from the foot of the pass.”
No way.
I clear my throat. “There’s no need for that. I’ll be fine,” I say again, more to myself than to Hailey. “I’ll see you soon, okay? We still have a few days before the wedding.”
“Okay, drive safe, Em. Can’t wait to see you!”
I sigh. Hailey is right. She’s been up there at the lodge many times before. She knows the place better than me. The podcasters were probably just trying to spice things up for their listeners. Surely, it’s not going to be that bad.
Hailey’s voice is full of warmth, and it’s that warmth that I hold onto as I hang up, ignoring the fact that Whit’s name is still there on my screen, a call that I have no intention of returning.
I drop the phone onto the passenger seat and focus on the road ahead as I press my foot down on the accelerator.
The landscape transforms around me as the road climbs higher into the Colorado mountains. The steep, winding roads twist through dense forests of pine and fir, their dark green needles jutting out against the rocky cliffs. The air is crisp, cooler than it was at the base of the mountain, and the scent of pine fills the car, reminding me of childhood camping trips with Hailey and Jace.
It’s still light out, even though the evening is well underway. The sky is a canvas of soft grays and blues, heavy clouds hanging low but not yet threatening. Rays of fading sunlight peek through gaps in the clouds, casting a golden glow over the mountain peaks. The towering cliffs are dotted with patches of snow, remnants of a winter that never fully left these heights, and the valleys below are blanketed in a patchwork of deep green and russet hues. The beauty of it all is almost surreal, like something out of a postcard.
As I drive, the road narrows, curving sharply around the edges of the mountainside. The drop-offs are steep, but the view is breathtaking.
Feeling a little more at ease, I switch the radio to a cheerful station, one that’s playing upbeat tunes from the eighties. The familiar songs fill the car, and I find myself humming along, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. For the first time since I landed in Colorado, I feel like maybe everything will be okay.
I have half a mind to contact the podcasters and tell them not to instill unnecessary panic in people. But then, just as I’m starting to relax, I notice something different. The first few snowflakes drift down from the sky, light and almost unnoticeable against the windshield. At first, it’s just a few flakes here and there, remnants of previous snowfalls sticking to the pines surrounding me. But I soon realize I’m wrong.
It’s starting to snow. Shit. I quickly glance at the GPS. I’ve three more miles to go.
The snow starts falling faster, transforming from gentle sprinkles into a full-on cascade in what feels like seconds. One moment, I’m driving through a light dusting of snowflakes, and the next, it’s as if the sky has opened up, unleashing its snowy wrath upon me.
The road ahead disappears under a thick, white blanket, and the visibility plummets so quickly that I can barely see the car’s hood, let alone the winding mountain road ahead.
My heart starts pounding in my chest, and my grip on the steering wheel tightens until my knuckles turn white. This is bad, very bad.
The radio is still playing, but the upbeat tunes feel out of place, almost distorted as an overwhelming sense of dread settles in my gut.
I lean forward, squinting through the windshield, but it’s no use. The snow is coming down so hard and fast that it’s like driving through a thick, swirling fog. The headlights barely penetrate the wall of white in front of me, and the road, once so clear, is now completely obscured.
Panic starts to set in. My breathing quickens, each inhale sharp and shallow. I’m not sure what to do. Should I stop? But what if someone comes up behind me and can’t see me in time? Should I keep going? But where does the road even go from here?
And I’m already too high up the pass. If I stop now, won’t I just slide backward just as quickly? There are too many possibilities, each one more horrible than the other.
I check my phone, hoping to contact nine-one-one, but my hope dies quickly as I notice that there’s no signal at all. Shit.
“Come on, Emily, keep it together,” I whisper to myself, trying to calm the rising fear. But my voice wavers.
The car’s tires slip slightly as the road begins to incline again, and I feel the back end fishtail for a heart-stopping moment before I manage to steady it. The snow is piling up fast, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m one wrong move away from skidding off the road entirely.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The weather was supposed to hold, the road was supposed to be safe, and I was supposed to make it to Mt. Snowlodge without any problems. But now, with the blizzard bearing down on me, all those assumptions feel laughably naive.
I try to remember what the podcast said about mountain storms, but the details are a blur. Something about unpredictability, about how quickly things can change up here. I should’ve been more prepared, should’ve taken it more seriously. I should have asked Hailey to send someone, anyone, even Jace, to come bring me up to the mountain lodge. I don’t even remember the last time I drove this high up a mountain. I’m such an idiot.
The tires lose traction, and the car starts to spin before I can react. The world outside blurs into a dizzying swirl of white and gray. My heart leaps into my throat, and I yank the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to regain control, but it’s no use. The car has a mind of its own now, skidding across the icy road.
The car veers sharply to the right, and I feel a sickening lurch in my stomach as it leaves the road entirely. There’s a moment of terrifying weightlessness, as if time has slowed down, and then the car hits something—a snowbank, I think—and everything jerks violently to one side. The seatbelt digs painfully into my shoulder as the car tilts and slides down an embankment, the tires crunching through deep snow.
I brace myself, every muscle tensed, but there’s no stopping it now. The car finally comes to a jarring halt, wedged against a small tree, the front end buried in snow. The impact rattles through me, and for a moment, everything is still except the pounding of my heart and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I sit there, stunned, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my hands ache.
This can’t be happening. And yet, it’s my reality. I crane my neck but see nothing but snow. I’m trapped here for good.