Heather sighs. “I accidentally knocked Saskia’s drink over and she thought it was deliberate. Said she was going to tell everyone that I’d shagged Brent. I said I’d tell them she’d shagged Dale first. It got really nasty.”

“Right,” I say slowly. Things are falling into place.

Heather continues. “Saskia said of course she didn’t sleep with Dale. Poor Dale, she said. I’m going over there right now to tell him about you and Brent. She kept taunting me.”

“That’s why you hit her?”

“Yeah.”

“And did she tell him?”

“No. Not as far as I know.”

“And you didn’t tell him yesterday?”

Heather hangs her head. “He’d divorce me.”

“Really? Over something that happened ten years ago?”

“You don’t know what he’s like,” she says quietly.

But I noticed earlier how possessive Dale is. Maybe she’s right. She knows him far better than I do. “Does Curtis know?”

“Not unless Brent told him.”

Questions churn in my brain. Does this have anything to do with Saskia’s disappearance? I always wondered why Brent and Heather were on the glacier that day. Was the real reason they went up because they wanted to talk in private? It’s a long way to go just to do that, but the bubble lift would be a perfect place to make sure nobody overheard them. Except Saskia . . . what? Interrupted them? And used what she knew to blackmail Brent to spot her as she practiced Cripplers? Brent’s a nice guy. He might have been prepared to miss the warm-up at the Brits to protect Heather. But what happened after that? A tragic accident?

Or something else?

Anyway, I’ve just learned two things.

1. Heather can lie—not just to me but to her husband as well.

2. Brent and Heather know how to keep their mouths shut. What else are they keeping quiet about?

CHAPTER 36

TEN YEARS AGO

I’m sealed into my cold, dark tomb, still trying to claw my way out. The ice feels like granite against my fingertips. I’m scratching and scraping and I must be losing skin—my fingers are too numb to feel it—but I’m not getting anywhere.

My breaths get faster and faster; the sides of the tomb close in around me. I can’t breathe. Am I digging in the right direction? Think! I try to focus, but it’s so dark I’m no longer sure which way is up.

A bitter taste rises up my throat. I’m going to vomit. I gasp for air but nothing comes in.

“Help!” I scream. My hands thrash in front of my face. I have to get out of here. I don’t want to die like this.

Snow tumbles into my open mouth. I cough it out.