LOGINNILAHThe quiet morning light seeped slowly through the glass window of my attic room.The fierce mountain blizzard had stopped completely during the night. Outside, the world was buried under three feet of soft, pristine white snow. The high pine trees along the ridge looked like heavy ice pillars, holding up a pale blue sky. The bitter howling wind was gone, replaced by an absolute, peaceful silence that wrapped around the small town of Oakridge.I opened my eyes slowly under Clara’s yellow quilt.The room was still pleasantly warm. The air smelled of sweet pine needles, faint coal smoke, and the deep, familiar scent of Darien’s wool coat.I turned my head on the soft pillow.Darien was still there, sitting on the wooden floor with his back against the side of the small couch. He had his heavy knees pulled up, his dark head resting back against the cushions. The thick wool blanket I had given him was wrapped around his wide shoulders. His dark eyes were closed, and his long eyelashe
NILAHThe warm red light from the wood stove flickered softly across the small attic room.Outside, the heavy blizzard kept howling against the glass window, throwing thick white sheets of snow against the dark mountain sky. But inside, the air was warm. The sharp, biting cold had left the room hours ago.My forehead was still resting gently against Darien’s dark sweater.I could hear his heart beating beneath my palm. It was fast, steady, and strong, knocking right against his ribs. The smell of cold wind, pine wood, and dark rain still hung on his wool coat. It was the same smell he always had back in the city when he would come home late from the docks and kiss my cheek while I slept.For three long years, I had locked my grief in a deep, dark box inside my chest. I had wrapped heavy chains around my heart so I wouldn't feel the sharp, cutting pain of losing my baby boy. I had run away to this quiet mountain town, buried my hands in wet greenhouse dirt, and pretended that the past
DARIENThe dry wood popped, sending tiny golden sparks against the door. Warm air slowly spilled out into the small, dark living room, pushing away the bitter cold of the blizzard that raged outside the glass window.Nilah sat on the small wooden couch, wrapped tight in her thick wool blanket. She held a warm blue mug of hot water in both of her small hands. Her dark eyes were fixed entirely on the fire.I sat on a low wooden chair across from her, five feet away. I did not sit close. I did not try to reach out and touch her cold fingers. I kept my hands rested flat on my knees, my knuckles red and raw from the mountain wind.The quiet between us was heavy. It was not a mean quiet, but it was filled with old ghosts."The fire is good," Nilah whispered softly, her voice barely louder than the crackle of the wood. "It's warm.""It will keep the room warm all night," I said, my voice low and rough. "I put four big oak logs in the bottom. They burn slow."She took a small sip from her mu
NILAHThe mountain wind howled like a dying beast outside my small attic window.By the afternoon, the sky over Oakridge had turned from a dull, heavy gray to a pitch-black abyss. The storm had come down off the northern peaks fast and vicious, dumping inches of heavy, wet snow every hour. Through the glass, I could see nothing but a roaring wall of white. Main Street was completely buried, the streetlights swallowed by the blizzard.Inside my tiny attic room, the quiet hum of the electric space heater suddenly sputtered, clicked twice, and died.The small golden light on the front panel flickered out. Downstairs in the main shop, the deep, steady thrum of the greenhouse heating pipes went completely silent.The power grid was dead."Oh no..." I whispered into the dark room.My voice came out as a thick white cloud of frost. Within fifteen minutes, the thin warmth that had kept my room comfortable vanished. The bitter, biting mountain cold seeped straight through the wooden walls and
NILAHThe old brick building across the road was no longer dark and empty. The brown paper that used to cover the dusty display windows had been removed weeks ago. On the second floor, behind a large, clean glass window, sat a long, plain wooden desk.And behind that desk sat Darien.He was there right now. He was sitting in a high-backed dark chair, wearing a simple gray sweater. He had a black laptop open in front of him, and his fingers were moving across the keys. A small white ceramic cup sat near his right hand.He was looking down at his computer screen. He did not wave. He did not stare at me through the glass. He was just... there.Every single day for twenty-eight days, Darien had been sitting in that exact chair.He arrived at six o'clock in the morning, before the pale sun even rose over the snowy mountains. He stayed in that room all day long, working on his papers and typing on his computer. When the sun went down at five o'clock and the streetlights turned on, he was st
DARIENThe heavy silence inside the greenhouse felt thicker than the humid air rising off the damp potting soil.Nilah stood five feet away down the stone gravel aisle, her back pressed flat against the wooden potting table. Her dark eyes were wide, filled with a terrifying mix of raw panic and deep, ancient grief. The small velvet box sat open on the edge of the bench between us, the tiny gold wedding ring gleaming under the soft yellow lights.I was trembling violently. My shoulders felt heavy and crushed under my plain wool coat, and I could feel hot tears burning down my hollow cheeks. I was standing in front of her completely bare—no bodyguards, no guns, no power—just a man begging for his life.Between us, resting on the dark wood, sat the only piece of our past she hadn't destroyed."Nilah, please," I rasped out, my voice shaking so violently it barely sounded like my own. "Don't look at me like that. Tell me what I have to do. Tell me how many years I have to spend on my knees
Nilah’s povWhat the hell had I done?I sat in my car, staring at the mansion I had once called home, the perfectly trimmed garden stretched towards a fountain. Everything was just as I had remembered.Beautiful, warm, and inviting.My phone buzzed with a text from a number I didn't recognize. “The
Darien’s povThe Bentley’s engine purred as I drove through the rain-slicked street, and my phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in less than five minutes. I knew it was my mother no doubt, definitely calling to remind me about her ‘wonderful opportunity’ dinner she had arranged next week.“Don’t th
Nilah’s povThe penthouse was quiet, I stood in the kitchen with my hands gripping the sink as I stared at the divorce papers, I tried remembering how to breathe.In… out…The same way my therapist had taught me before I had stopped going because Marcus said I didn’t need one."You're being dramati
NILAHThe silence in the grand ballroom was loud, it felt heavier than the rain that had ruined my car hours ago, making my head spin as I tried to process what my father had just blurted out from the podium.Hundreds of eyes shifted from my father, following his proud gaze, until they locked direc







