Chapter 1

Whitney Linder's figure disappeared completely into the blowing snow.

All that was left was the howl of the wind. It sounded like it was laughing at how stupid I had been.

I forced my eyes open. The only person still standing nearby was Whitney's personal assistant, Alfred Cooper.

He looked down at me. His expression was conflicted.

Hope sparked in my chest. It was my survival instinct kicking in. "Help… Help me…"

Alfred reached out. His hand hovered in mid-air before he pulled back.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Skyler. Ms. Linder said Mr. Linder was frightened and that everyone needed to escort him down the mountain," he said. "She even said that the avalanche has already stopped. You're not buried that deep. You're from the countryside. A little snow won't kill you. She wants you to cool off."

After that, he guiltily avoided my eyes.

If he had just grabbed my wrist and pulled, I could've crawled out.

But he didn't.

He chose to obey that blind CEO and left a living person in an ice tomb.

His footsteps crunched away with the unmistakable sound of boots on snow.

I was abandoned.

I tried to bend my fingers and reach for the hard object hidden in my clothes.

My foster mother had slipped it to me before I went back to the Linder family.

She'd said, "Skyler, this is your lifeline. Don't use it unless you have no other choice. Because once you do, your peaceful life ends."

Back then, I'd laughed. Why would I ever need something like that with my real sister and parents back?

Now, the joke was on me.

Summoning the last of my strength, I pressed the red button.

With a tiny beep, the indicator light flickered twice, then died.

The satellite signal had been transmitted.

I didn't know if I could last long enough for them to cross borders and reach me.

This place was a dead zone sealed off after the avalanche.

Just then, my phone, pressed against my chest, suddenly lit up.

It was a particular vibration pattern.

It was a group message from the "Ride-or-Die Mercenary Squad".

Their encrypted channel managed to push a message through the weak signal.

Lauren Anderson sent a photo.

She was wiping down a heavy sniper rifle. The barrel was gleaming cold.

She added a short caption. "Got your location, Skyler. We're on a job near the border. Just 120 miles away from you. It's a nice mountain. It's perfect for burying someone."