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Chapter 2

作者: Tilly
I reached the foot of the mountain at seven the next morning.

Mr. Brooks, who watched over the snow trail, looked past me as soon as he saw me.

“Where are those three boys? They’d usually fighting over who gets to carry your backpack. Not one of them today?”

“They’ll be here later.”

He glanced at the sky. “Then you’d better hurry. It’s warm today. The snow at the summit won’t last until evening.”

I nodded.

He hadn’t seen me head up alone in years. He gave me another look but didn’t ask anything else.

A row of trail passes hung at the entrance.

Every year, Ethan insisted on taking mine, saying he was afraid I’d lose it.

Noah would tease him for not even letting me carry my own pass. While they bickered, Lucas would slip my backpack onto his shoulders.

Today, I took just one of the four passes.

Halfway up the mountain, my right index finger had melted down to the second knuckle.

I pulled off my glove. The sodden fabric hung limp. There was no longer enough of my hand left to fill it.

Ethan had knitted that glove.

That first year, he’d only known one basic stitch. He’d made the thumb too narrow, and it squeezed painfully whenever I wore it. Still, I’d never had the heart to replace it.

My phone rang. I hurried to answer with my left hand.

It was a video call from Lily.

She stood by the ocean, her eyes shining.

“Claire, look! The water really is blue!”

She turned the camera around. Noah was taking pictures of her. Lucas held her coat, and Ethan carried her shoes.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Lily asked.

“It is.”

“How’s it going over there? Ethan said you went hiking on your own.”

I watched the wet patches spreading across my glove.

“Lily, could you put Noah on?”

Her smile faltered, but she handed him the phone.

“You’re there already?” he said. “Didn’t I tell you last night there was no rush?”

“The snow will be gone this afternoon. If you leave now, you can still make it.”

“Lily just got to the beach. She’s barely had any time here.”

“You can come. Ethan and Lucas can stay with her.”

“Why does it have to be me?” His voice dropped. “They’re both here, too.”

As a boy, he’d been afraid there were hidden hollows beneath the snow. With every step, he’d cling to the hem of my coat.

Only after I’d packed the snow down beneath my feet would he dare to follow.

When he grew older, he started taking the lead. Even from far ahead, he’d turn and call back to me.

“Claire, step in my footprints.”

“Because you’re the one who answered,” I said.

He didn’t reply. After a while, he said, “I’ve got to go. Lily’s waiting for me to take more pictures.”

The call ended.

I stuffed the soaked glove into my backpack and kept climbing.

At ten, Lucas sent me a photo.

Lily sat on a rock by the water, holding a seashell.

His blue scarf was draped over her shoulders.

I’d knitted it for him when we were children. The stitches were terribly crooked.

He’d called it ugly, but he wore it up the mountain every year.

“She’s a little cold,” he wrote. “I’m letting her borrow it for a bit.”

“Can you come?” I asked.

His reply came almost immediately.

“I need to keep an eye on her. The rocks are slippery, and she’s never been to the beach before.”

“Ethan and Noah are there, too.”

No reply came.

The snow at the summit glistened wetly in the sun.

I stopped at the fork in the trail to wait.

My thumb, too, was slowly melting away.

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