Romans & histoires Dear America The Winter Of Red Snow

"Try not to bring your entire wardrobe because space is limited." "Try not to bring your entire contact list," I called after him. "Oh wait, they're already published in the tabloids anyway." The elevator doors closed on his furious expression and I stood there in the empty hallway feeling my heart beat increase and I hope my BP doesn't get worse. My phone buzzed with a text from the lawyer's office about travel arrangements and I deleted it without reading the whole thing because I already knew what it would say. Two days and then I'd be stuck in a house with Adrian Ashford for an entire Christmas season.

"Now." Amanda's smile widened. "But darling, there's no room at any of the hotels this close to Christmas. Where would they go?”

You know when you’re young and your parents tell you never to eat yellow snow? Well today, I’m going to advise you not to eat the red snow. Snow is meant to be peaceful and beautiful. It means a day in front of the fireplace with hot chocolate. A day outside spent making snow angels and snowmen. Snowball fights. Ice skating. Igloos. Sled riding. None of that is going to happen today. There will be no laughter and joy. There will only be bloodshed.

She'd only ever known cold. I thought about that for a long time after I got into bed. The power came back on at two in the morning, I heard the fridge hum back to life, saw the small glow of the hallway nightlight reappear under my door, and I lay there in the sudden ordinary brightness of a restored apartment and thought about sunflowers growing in cold ground. And a man who said he didn't know the ending yet.

On Christmas Eve, my bestie, Yara Charlton, came to me, her cheeks rosy with a mix of excitement and nerves: "Nicole... Can you do me a solid and come over on Christmas Eve? I need a wingwoman to help me sneak some time with Keith." "Huh?" I stared at Yara, puzzled. Blushing deeper, she nibbled on her lip and spilled the beans, saying, "I'm scared my dad will catch on to Keith and me. If you're there, you can help distract him..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I haven't had a chance to be close with Keith in forever... You need to help me!" I could not say no to Yara, so I agreed, albeit with a bit of trepidation.

Lance called out. I looked up at the white flakes landing on the ground. "Fuck my life.” Great now. Our assignment would have to be delayed now. We would need to change locations if the roof of this warehouse decided to collapse due to heavy snow and damage to all the goods. Not to mention, the flight delay. “Why does it have to snow?” I groaned. "Because it’s winter and we are in Denver?" Lance provided in vain. "Thanks, Lance. I didn't know that,” I retorted.

Henry and I hastened our pace as well. ...... Late at night, Snowland, perpetually plagued by ice and snow, suddenly grew quiet. However, the more subdued it became, the more unsettling the atmosphere. Pedestrians were scarce on the streets. The silence was abruptly shattered by the eerie howling of wolves. Henry and I stood by the river, with the bound Gamma Leavis of the Snowwolf Pack and his troops by our side. "Look, I have no intention of causing harm to your lives," I declared as I stepped forward, locking eyes with Leavis, who stubbornly resisted my gaze. "On the contrary, I'm here to help you."

We walked to the arena. I felt something cold on my cheek. Kaya looked up to the sky. Tiny white snowflakes had begun to come down. Winter was officially here. Kaya mind linked me: "Will the snow stop, or will it just keep coming like it does in the North? Once it starts, it never stops until the spring." I smiled at her. "No, it will stop and start and stop again. It does not snow every day."

Her vision was turning red. “Help…” she gasped, barely louder than a whisper. Dylan glanced at her once, his expression unreadable, then slammed the door and drove off into the snow. Zoe lay trembling on the ground, tears streaming down her face as the car vanished into the blizzard. And then—everything went black. * In her haze, Zoe began to dream. She was fifteen again. It was the day of her parents’ funeral. The snow was heavy, blanketing the world in white. She had cried so hard in front of their portraits that she nearly passed out.