LOGINNoah’s Pov
The first thing I noticed when I stepped inside the mountain lodge wasn’t the warmth from the massive stone fireplace or the relief of finally escaping the brutal snowstorm.
It was Sophia Blake.
She stood near the reception desk with a suitcase beside her, looking just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.
For a brief second, neither of us moved.
Of all the places in the state, of all the weekends in the year, fate had somehow decided to strand the two of us in the same place.
She folded her arms across her chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I pulled my gloves off and slipped them into my coat pocket. “I was about to say the same thing.”
The receptionist looked from one of us to the other. “Do… do you two know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Sophia answered before I could speak.
I couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t think she’s very happy to see me.”
“You’re surprisingly observant.”
The receptionist cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ll need your name.”
“Noah Steele.”
Recognition immediately flashed across her face. Within seconds, another employee walked over with a bright smile. “We’re honored to have you staying with us, Mr. Steele. Unfortunately, because of the storm, we’re completely full. There is only one issue.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of issue?”
She glanced nervously toward Sophia. “We only have one suite left.”
Sophia frowned. “What happened to the room you just gave me?”
The receptionist winced. “One of the heating systems in the east wing failed about an hour ago. We had to move several guests into the remaining available rooms. The only room we have left is the family suite.”
Silence. Sophia and I looked at each other.
Absolutely not.
“There has to be another option,” Sophia said.
“The roads have been closed, and the state police have blocked the highway.”
Sophia rubbed her forehead. “This can’t be real.”
“The suite has two separate bedrooms and two bathrooms,” the receptionist offered. “You would only be sharing the common areas.”
We both spoke at exactly the same time. “No.”
“Unless someone is willing to sleep in the lobby tonight, there truly isn’t another choice.”
Sophia looked around. Every chair was occupied. Families sat wrapped in blankets. Children slept against their parents. An elderly couple rested beside the fireplace. The lodge really was full.
“I promise not to annoy you,” I said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fair.”
She sighed dramatically. “I hate this.”
“So do I.”
Another long silence passed before she finally looked at the receptionist. “We’ll take the room.”
The woman smiled with obvious relief, handing us a key card, and quietly added that the blizzard was expected to continue until tomorrow evening at the earliest.
Wonderful.
The family suite was far nicer than I expected. A large stone fireplace filled the center of the living room while floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the mountains, though almost nothing was visible beyond the endless curtain of falling snow. Two separate bedrooms connected by a shared hallway.
Sophia immediately placed her suitcase beside the bedroom closest to the entrance. “I’ll take this room.”
“I wasn’t planning to argue. I’ll use the other one.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. The silence quickly became awkward.
“I think we’re supposed to establish some ground rules,” I said. “You stay out of my room. I stay out of yours and no stealing blankets.”
She almost smiled. “I wasn’t aware adults needed to discuss blanket theft.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Anything else?”
“If we survive this weekend, we never tell anyone we shared a suite.”
That finally earned a laugh. “Deal.”
“There we go. That’s the first time you’ve smiled around me.”
“I did not smile. It was a facial twitch.”
“I’ll accept that.”
She shook her head, walking toward the kitchen. “You really do enjoy annoying people.”
“Only the interesting ones.”
She paused for the briefest moment before pretending not to hear me.
An hour later, the weather had become even worse. Snow pounded relentlessly against the windows while fierce winds rattled the entire building. The television displayed continuous weather updates: major highways remained closed, travelers advised to stay indoors.
Sophia stood beside the window. “I’ve never seen snow this bad.”
“It’ll probably keep us here another day.”
“My boss is going to panic.” She paused. “Actually, I already called him. He said getting here safely matters more than arriving on time.”
“Sounds like a reasonable boss.”
“What about your charity event?”
“I already informed the organizers. They’d rather I arrive late than crash into a mountain.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s comforting.”
A knock interrupted the conversation. A young employee stood outside holding several blankets, asking guests to help distribute them downstairs.
“I can help,” I said.
Sophia stepped beside me. “So can I.
The lobby had become noticeably busier. More stranded travelers had arrived during the past hour, and several children looked frightened by the worsening storm.
One little girl couldn’t have been older than six. She clung tightly to a stuffed rabbit while quietly crying beside her mother.
Sophia immediately knelt beside her. “Hi. My name is Sophia. I like your rabbit.”
The little girl looked down. “His name is Marshmallow.”
Sophia smiled warmly. “That’s a wonderful name.”
Slowly, the child smiled back.
I watched the interaction from across the room while helping an elderly man carry luggage toward the elevators. Sophia wasn’t trying to impress anyone. There were no cameras, reporters or photographers. She simply cared.
That surprised me.
When we finally finished helping the staff, we found ourselves sitting beside the fireplace with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Neither of us spoke for a while. The crackling fire filled the silence.
Finally, Sophia looked at me. “Can I ask you something? Why do you hate my brother so much?”
There it was. The question I had expected from the beginning.
I stared into the flames. “I don’t wake up every morning thinking about hating Mason. I hate what happened.”
She frowned slightly. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
“No, they aren’t.”
She waited patiently.
After several moments, I quietly said, “There was a time when your brother and I were friends. We played together before either of us became professionals.”
Her eyes widened. “Mason never told me that.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“What happened?”
I hesitated. Some memories still hurt too much to explain. “A boy named Tyler Dawson died.”
Her expression softened. “I’ve heard that name before.”
“I wish I hadn’t.”
She noticed the sadness in my voice but didn’t push for more. Instead, she simply nodded. “I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in those two words caught me completely off guard. Most people wanted details. Most people wanted gossip. She offered compassion.
That alone made me look at her differently.
Maybe I had judged Mason’s sister far too quickly. Maybe she had judged me just as unfairly.
We stayed by the fire long after everyone else had gone to bed, talking as though the storm had pressed pause on the rest of the world. Somewhere between laughter and quiet confessions, the space between us disappeared.
Sophia looked into the flames before speaking softly.
“Kiss me, Noah.”
I kissed her slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, but instead she moved closer, wrapping her arms around me as though she had wanted this from the very beginning.
One kiss became another until nothing else seemed to matter except the two of us.
Outside, the blizzard continued to rage, while inside we stopped fighting the feelings we had been trying so hard to deny.
The rest of the night belonged only to us. When morning came, everything would be different .
Sophia’s PovSpring turned into summer, and our lives settled into something so peaceful it almost felt unfamiliar. Grace had just turned two, chasing after Tyler with fierce determination every chance she got, and Tyler, now six, had become the proudest big brother in the entire building, teaching her simple hockey moves in our living room despite my constant reminders to be gentle.One afternoon, while sorting through old mail that had piled up on the kitchen counter, I found an envelope with no return address, my name written across the front in neat, careful handwriting I didn’t recognize.“Noah,” I called, turning it over slowly in my hands. “Did you order something? There’s no name on this.”He came over, studying it with me, both of us feeling a small flicker of old caution before quickly reminding ourselves that Victor was gone, that Holt was gone, that every danger from our past had already been resolved.“Open it,” Noah said gently. “It’s probably nothing.”Inside was a sing
Sophia’s PovSpring turned into summer, and our lives settled into something so peaceful it almost felt unfamiliar. Grace had just turned two, chasing after Tyler with fierce determination every chance she got, and Tyler, now six, had become the proudest big brother in the entire building, teaching her simple hockey moves in our living room despite my constant reminders to be gentle.One afternoon, while sorting through old mail that had piled up on the kitchen counter, I found an envelope with no return address, my name written across the front in neat, careful handwriting I didn’t recognize.“Noah,” I called, turning it over slowly in my hands. “Did you order something? There’s no name on this.”He came over, studying it with me, both of us feeling a small flicker of old caution before quickly reminding ourselves that Victor was gone, that Holt was gone, that every danger from our past had already been resolved.“Open it,” Noah said gently. “It’s probably nothing.”Inside was a sing
Noah’s PovSophia read the message twice, her eyes widening with surprise before a slow, genuine smile spread across her face. She handed me the phone, and I read it myself, feeling the same warm disbelief settle over me.“They want to name an award after him,” I said. “A real, permanent award. Every year, for every rookie in the league.”“For sportsmanship,” Sophia said softly. “For doing the right thing, even when it’s hard.”We called Coach Reynolds back the next morning, and his excitement carried clearly through the phone. “The league office reached out after hearing about the campaign. Once word got around about Tyler’s letters, about what kind of person he really was, they wanted to do something lasting. Something that keeps his memory alive every single season, not just this year.”“What exactly would it look like?” I asked.“Each year, the league would recognize one rookie who best represents honesty, courage, and fair play, both on and off the ice,” Coach Reynolds explained.
Sophia’s PovVanessa’s message sat quietly on Noah’s phone screen that night, and though the words themselves carried none of the fear that once accompanied every unexpected message from her, a soft nervous flutter passed through me anyway. Old habits were hard to fully release, even in peaceful times.“She says it’s about Tyler,” Noah said, setting the phone down carefully. “Not Victor. Just Tyler.”“That’s different,” I said slowly, allowing myself to feel something closer to curiosity than dread. “She’s never reached out like this before.”We called her the next morning, and her voice carried a gentleness I hadn’t fully heard from her until now, softer than during our earlier, more cautious conversations.“I found a box while cleaning out my mother’s storage unit,” she explained. “It’s mostly old photographs, but there’s something else in there. Letters. I think they’re from Tyler.”My breath caught. “Letters to your mother?”“I think so,” Vanessa said. “I haven’t read all of them.
Noah’s PovI read the message twice, curiosity replacing the calm we had only just settled into. Mason called before I even had the chance to phone Coach Reynolds myself, his voice carrying the same confused excitement I felt.“Did you get his text too?” Mason asked.“Just now,” I said. “No idea what he means by something big.”“Should we call him tonight?”“It’s late,” I said, glancing toward the bedroom where Sophia had just gotten Grace back to sleep. “Let’s call him first thing tomorrow, like he said.”We agreed to meet at the arena early the next morning, and after a full night’s rest for the first time in what felt like weeks, I left the apartment with a strange mix of nerves and hope, Sophia waving from the doorway with Grace resting against her shoulder.“Whatever it is,” she said, smiling, “go find out. We’ll be here.”Coach Reynolds was already waiting when Mason and I arrived, sitting in his office with two cups of coffee already poured, his expression carrying the kind of
Sophia’s PovNoah read the message out loud, and my stomach dropped the moment he finished, exhaustion mixing with a fear I thought we had finally left behind. Grace stirred slightly in my arms, and I held her a little tighter, as if that alone could shield her from whatever new shadow this email was trying to cast over our family.“Forward it to Renee,” I said quickly. “Right now. Tonight.”Noah was already typing, his hands moving fast despite how tired he looked. Within minutes, Renee called back, her voice steady even though it was well past midnight.“I saw it,” she said. “Give me until morning before either of you panics. Emails like this show up sometimes, especially after a case gets this much public attention. People want money, attention, or just enjoy causing fear. I’ll trace it first thing.”“But what if it’s real?” Sophia asked, her voice tight. “What if there’s actually something else Victor never told anyone?”Renee was quiet for a moment before answering carefully. “Vi







