Chapter 3
When she’d had enough, Kara eased away, disappearing up the stairs. The second floor felt strangely deserted, even with muffled voices from the reunion downstairs. She could hear faint tapping of dishes being moved, and footsteps, but in the hallway, everything was hushed.
She steered clear of George's and her own old room, making her way to Zoe’s instead.
She pushed the door open just an inch. Isabel lay curled in a crib, cheeks round and rosy, a tiny fist resting beside her mouth.
Her little chest rose and fell with that deep, effortless peace only babies seemed to have.
A soft white blanket was tucked around her, the one Zoe had knitted during her maternity leave, half of it uneven because she kept falling asleep over it.
Kara’s breath caught. She’d seen Isabel through pictures, short videos Zoe sent between feedings and exhaustion. But seeing her in person tugged at her heart. She was beautiful, with thick, dark curls that reminded her of Zoe’s.
Kara couldn’t help but feel guilty again.
She had missed so much. She should’ve been here sooner, been someone Zoe could lean on.
Kara gripped the doorframe lightly, lost in thought, wishing she was with Zoe during the nausea, the cravings, the nights alone with a newborn while her husband worked late.
Someone who should’ve known exactly how soft Isabel’s hair was by now, or heard her little giggle.
To be more than the sister who disappeared.
Zoe had carried this entire new life—this whole chapter—without her. And while Kara had been preserving herself, Zoe had still been trying to live in spite of the past.
“I’m sorry,” Kara said, though she didn’t know who she was apologizing to: Zoe, Isabel, or herself.
She swallowed hard, then blinked fast as Isabel shifted, her face scrunching briefly before relaxing again. “I can’t wait to really meet you,” she murmured. “ I swear that I won’t miss any more of this.”
She let the door close softly, leaving the baby in her warm, dreaming world, while she carried the weight of everything she’d missed out on into the dim hallway.
She escaped to the bathroom, washing her hands, scrubbing harder than necessary, as if she could wash away the weight of memories and the guilt that clung to her skin.
To be back in Montana felt like stepping into a fog that had waited years just to swallow her whole.
She splashed cold water on her face, hoping the sting would anchor her to the present. Two more days, she reminded herself. Just two more days, and she’d be back in New York—planning a quiet, intimate wedding and leaving this entire place behind.
A soft knock at the door. “Everything okay?” Zoe’s voice carried gentle concern.
Kara glanced up at the mirror, met her own tired reflection, then turned to open the door.
“Yeah,” she began, but her voice faltered. “It’s just eerie being back. Especially in this house.”
Zoe looked around the hallway, her lips pressing into a wry smile. “Yeah, this house. That you left me all alone in it, remember?”
A pang of regret pierced Kara’s chest. Her eyes welled, glassy and soft with apology. “I’m so sorry, Zo,” she said, her voice thick.
Kara loved her sister—But she loved herself enough to know that some truths were better left unsaid than spoken cruelly.
She couldn’t fault Zoe for feeling the way she did; any reaction was earned, fair even. Kara couldn’t face this right now. Not when she was already barely holding herself together. A dark cloud began to gather, hovering just above her shoulders.
Before Zoe could respond, Isaac appeared from the living room, probably sensing the emotional shift. “Well, it was great meeting everyone,” he said, cutting through the moment like a knife wrapped in politeness. “We’ve got to check in at the hotel.”
He gave a courteous nod toward Zoe. “Nice to finally meet you, Zo.”
“You too, Isaac,” Zoe said, her eyes still lingering on Kara.
Kara gave a small wave to the family members who remained, her hand feeling oddly heavy as she stepped out into the late afternoon air. The sun had dipped a few feet, and somehow her time there felt shorter than it truly was. She moved slowly down the steps, each one feeling heavier than the last.
“Thank you, Isaac,” she said quietly, tears finally spilling down her cheeks in thick, quiet streams. He didn’t speak—he just held her hand a little tighter as they made their way to the car.
The Royal Peak Resort stood proud on the edge of town—a five-story building with nearly two hundred rooms and a reputation for being “the best resort you’ll find within one hundred miles.
” It had a rustic-meets-modern charm: timber-framed balconies, floor-to-ceiling windows in the lobby, and a roaring stone fireplace crackling near a cluster of oversized armchairs.
The polished floors echoed lightly as they walked in, the scent of cedarwood and lemon cleaner heavy in the air.
At the reception desk, Kara clung to Isaac’s arm—not for love at that moment, but for balance.
Just as Isaac reached for his wallet, a high-pitched squeal shattered the lobby’s calm.
“Kara! Is that really you? I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it!”
Kara had reached her limit. One more reunion, one more forced small talk, might send her over the edge. Kara blinked, caught off guard.
Ivy Moore.
Her high school frenemy. She still wore too much blush and talked too loudly. Ivy hurried from behind the counter, arms spread for a hug.
“It’s been what—ten whole years? Or has it been more? You look amazing. Big-shot now, huh?”
“Hi, Ivy. It’s good to see you.”
Isaac cleared his throat gently. “Isaac White, fiancé.”
Ivy’s eyes widened slightly as she extended her hand. “Ivy Moore. We were best friends in high school,” she added, with a slight blush.
“We’d like to check in,” Isaac said, slipping into his no-nonsense tone. “Kara needs some rest.”
Ivy nodded, a bit more composed. “Of course. I’m really sorry to hear about George. I know you two didn’t always get along, but cancer’s an evil thing.”
“It is,” Kara replied softly, eyes cast down.
What felt like a century later, Ivy handed over two key cards. “Room 220. Corner suite. Best one in the hotel and the upgrades for me.”
“That’s really kind of you,” Kara said.
Ivy leaned in. “We should catch up. After everything settles.”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Kara said, though she didn’t mean it.
When they got out of earshot. “Ivy Moore was never my friend. She’d pull cruel pranks, spread rumors, and lie without a second thought,” Kara told him.
“She seemed so nice,” he said, disbelief in his voice.
The suite was unexpectedly gorgeous—high ceilings, a king-sized bed with crisp white linens, a small balcony overlooking the mountainous valley, and, most notably, a jacuzzi tub tucked behind a translucent shower liner in the bathroom.
Isaac walked straight to it, whistling low. “Let me draw you a bath, my lady,” he said, his voice soft. “Wash the day away.”
Kara stared at him for a moment, emotions swirling, then began peeling off her layers, her movements slow. “You’re a godsend,” she said, hugging him tight.
Isaac turned the taps, steam already rising, and glanced over his shoulder.
“You’re the one I don’t deserve.”
“You’ve been rescuing me all day,” she whispered into the empty bathroom. There was no reply, just the sound of the faucet dripping and the soft pulse of her own breath.
Isaac decided on a nap, the day having worn him down, too. Kara soaked in the silence. She could feel her mask slipping. She wasn’t the girl he thought she was.
Their first few months of dating had been perfect. They’d found their rhythm as the years went by, and when Isaac proposed, she had said yes.
Now, lying back in the warm water, the steam softened everything—the ache in her shoulders, the knot at the base of her neck, the dull throb behind her eyes.
The short interaction with Ivy earlier had left her nerves frayed. So many ghosts in this town were coming back to haunt her.
So many things were left unresolved.
She closed her eyes and sank deeper, the water wrapping around her like a tomb. Kara soaked until the water turned tepid and her fingertips shriveled like dried petals. With a sigh, she stepped out, dried off, and slipped into the plush robe. The fabric was soft, hotel luxury against worn-out skin.
When she entered the bedroom, she found Isaac already asleep, lying on his back, mouth slightly open, breathing slow and deep. The room was dim now, the curtains drawn.
She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Then she let the robe fall to the floor and slid into bed beside him, burrowing under the duvet. For a moment, she let herself feel the safety—his warmth beside her, the quiet purr of the hotel HVAC, the distant howl.
The pair of them drifted in and out of consciousness, ordering dinner through room service as the night progressed.
Noon the following day, Kara invited Zoe and Peter to the resort for lunch. Zoe agreed before she got all of the words out; the house was still teeming with estranged family members that she wanted to avoid.
With Isabel staying with her grandparents until after the funeral, Kara figured they could both use some time away from everything. A little space to breathe, without having to worry about anyone else.
She had missed so much of her sister’s life, but she could see how deeply Zoe was loved by the people around her. Kara wanted that for her more than anything. She deserved to be happy. To be loved, protected, and surrounded by those who would never make her question whether she mattered.
The lodge-style restaurant at the mountain resort smelled like fresh waffles and hardwood smoke.
Large picture windows framed the range, sunlight spilling in across the rustic pine tables.
A server with an eager smile poured coffee into mismatched ceramic mugs, the kind that reminded Kara of quaint cafes and secondhand shops.
“God, these views,” Zoe said, pulling her cardigan tighter around her. “It almost makes you forget what's going on.”
Kara half-laughed behind her mug. Isaac, seated beside her in a slate-blue sweater, eyes fixed on the menu, though it hadn’t changed in the ten minutes he’d stared at it.
Peter nudged Zoe with a gentle elbow. “We could always buy a place here.”
They lived about two hours away, on a huge stretch of land. Peter was a cattle rancher, and his family owned a sizable herd of nearly eight hundred that roamed across more acres than Kara could fathom.
“I’d miss our animals,” Zoe said, though Kara spotted a glint in her eyes.
The waiter returned to scribble down their orders—frittatas, pancakes, steak, and eggs for Peter. Kara ordered just fruit and tea. When he left, Zoe leaned forward, her tone shifting.
“So. The house.”
“What about it?”
I want to sell it,” Zoe said, her voice firmer than Kara expected. “I’ve talked to Peter. We’re not keeping it. We need to let it go.”
Kara looked at her, searching for hesitation. There was none.
“You could sell it and keep whatever you make from it.”
Isaac sat up straighter. “That is a big decision.”
Kara glanced out the window, eyes tracing the snow patches tucked between the trees.
Peter cleared his throat. “It’s really generous of you, Kara. We appreciate it.”
“Selling the house is also the right one. That house is full of bad memories that either of us need to hold onto.” Zoe said.
Kara exhaled. “I agree.”
Isaac turned his head sharply toward her. “You do?”
She nodded. “There’s no reason to hang on to it. It’s not like either of us wants to move back to Pine Ridge.”
“I don’t even want to visit,” Zoe muttered. Peter took her hand under the table.
“Don’t you think you should think about it first?” Isaac asked softly.
“No, Isaac.” Kara shook her head. “I don’t want any part of it.”
“Okay. I just want you to be sure.”
“I’ll stay an extra couple of days,” Kara said suddenly. “Help pack up the house. Go through the boxes. There’s stuff we should probably go through before the realtor starts showing it.”
The server returned with their food, and for a moment, silence filled the table, cut only by the clatter of dishes.
“Kara…”
“It’s just an extra two days,” she said quickly, looking at him. “I have to help. You can fly back to New York”.
“I thought we agreed,” Isaac said once they were alone again, his voice low. “We leave together, and we need to find a reception venue.”
“We did. But I didn’t know how I’d feel once I got here.”
Zoe looked between them, clearly uncomfortable.
Kara nodded, picking at a slice of cantaloupe. “It feels like the right thing to do. Like closure.”
Isaac leaned back, face unreadable. He took a sip of coffee before responding. “Two days.”
“Two days,” Kara promised.
Isaac had to check his emails after lunch, so Kara opted to head over to the house with Zoe. She could already tell Isaac was going to be in a sour mood about her decision to give the money away. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want it.
But to Kara, it felt like blood money.
She knew he saw it as an inheritance, something that could make their lives easier. She saw it differently. Their lives were easy enough. She didn’t need money that came with so much pain attached to it.