“A bunch of guests left unchaperoned? I’m amazed they would allow it,” I say.

“Saves on costs,” Dale points out.

Brent nods. “Must be hard for a tiny resort like this up against mega resorts like the Trois Vallées.”

“What about the game?” I ask. “Did they set that up, too?”

They can’t answer. And from the way they’re looking at me, they still think I have something to do with it.

“Shall I do the honors?” Heather says the moment Curtis returns. Without waiting for an answer, she opens the flap at the bottom of the box, wrestles out the topmost envelope, and rips into it.

The rest of us pull up chairs. What’s she so excited about anyway? What does she think the cards are going to say?

“I’ll read them all out, then we’ll guess who wrote what, all right?”

She’s so twitchy, she’s not just drunk. I think she’s on something. Then again, Curtis seems equally on edge. He sits stiffly upright, keeping a constant watch of the room.

I can’t feel my fingers. I stuff them under my thighs, but my satin chair seat is as cold as everything else in the room.

Heather reads the card and her cheeks color. “I slept with Brent.”

She darts an anxious look at her husband as though fearing he’ll think it an admission, but he’s looking at me, as are Brent and Curtis.

“I didn’t write that,” Curtis says.

We all laugh.

Everyone except Heather. “We said we’d read them all out before we guess.”

She’s trying to boss Curtis. Good luck with that.

“I didn’t write it either,” I say.

The guys laugh some more. Heather glares at me.

Dale puts his hands up. “Don’t look at me.”

More laughter.

One of the guys must have written it for a joke. Curtis probably.

Heather’s opening the next envelope already. Her haste makes me wonder. Was there ever anything between her and Brent? Even if there was, surely she wouldn’t advertise it. She and Dale got together pretty early on that winter.

She clears her throat. “I slept with Brent.” Her voice is overbright.

More laughter, louder this time, from me, Brent, and Curtis. Dale isn’t smiling.

Curtis slaps Brent’s shoulder. “No wonder you never made the Olympics. You didn’t get enough sleep.”

It’s good to see Curtis looking happier. His icebreaker is having the desired effect. Warming us up—whether from amusement or embarrassment—despite the frigid air temperature. I’m enjoying seeing Heather squirm. From the expression on Dale’s face, if there was ever something between Brent and his wife, it’s news to him.