He and Brent hurry down to the building.

That’s all I need—him ripping into me. “Oh, and you do?” I shout after him.

Using my board as a crutch, I limp after them. The hot ache in my knee becomes a savage sting every time I put weight on it. Blank it out. You’ve done it before.

By the time I reach them, Curtis and Brent have pulled off most of their kit and replaced their snow-covered boots with their skate shoes. I prop my snowboard against the wall beside the others.

Dale runs out of the building. “I can’t find her.”

“Have you checked your dorm?” Curtis says.

“She’s not there.” Dale looks frantic. “Did any of you see her come in? She might have gone down a crevasse.”

We exchange looks. The golden rule on a glacier? Never take your snowboard off. With your board on, your weight is spread over a larger surface area. Without one, the risk of falling down a crevasse increases massively. When we walked up, we stuck to the line of the tow lift, knowing that a few months earlier at least, resort staff would have kept it clear of crevasses. But Heather would have no clue about that, and unlike the rest of us, she wasn’t wearing a transceiver or harness.

“I’m going to check around out here.” Dale heads off toward the garages.

“We’ll look inside,” Curtis calls after him.

“You managing, Mills?” Brent says.

“Yep.”

Curtis watches me struggle to get my boots off, without saying a word. I can tell it’s killing him.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” I tell him.

“All right,” Curtis says. “You check upstairs, Brent, and I’ll check down here. I’m sure she’s in there somewhere.”

“I’ll be in my dorm,” I call as they race off.

I scoop up a handful of snow and press it to my knee. There’s a mountain of kit by the door. I rummage through harnesses, gloves, and goggles for my shoes. Here they are. My socks are soaked now, but I grit my teeth and hobble inside. I need to get this leg elevated.

I turn down the corridor toward the dorms. Curtis must have just been down here because the lights are on. I sniff the air and my stomach lurches. I think I smell Saskia’s perfume again.

My senses prickle. Someone’s behind me.

I turn as fast as my knee will allow, but nobody’s there. Spooked, I limp on. Not far now. I can’t wait to get behind a locked door. A rustle from behind makes me spin around again. Shit—that hurt. I clutch my knee. But the corridor is empty.

“Hello?” I call.