How would he and I have been together? I suspect the season would have had a very different outcome. Yet it wasn’t what I wanted at the time. Curtis is a full-on sort of guy—I saw how he was with Jacinta—and there’s no way I could have combined a serious relationship with serious training.

Anyway, what’s done is done. But what about now? Are we too scarred by the past to have a future? I catch myself. What am I thinking? Ten years have passed. I don’t even know him anymore.

He’s looking at my hair. “So you went back to blond?”

“What? Oh. Yeah.” I suppose I must remind him of his sister, just as he reminds me of her.

I’ve always wondered how the loss affected him. From his behavior earlier, there’s clearly a lot of emotion there, but does he miss her? Does it stab him in the heart every time he hears her name? Or was it secretly a relief—a huge burden lifted? His life must be so much simpler without her around.

“Can I ask something?” I say. “Why did you stop competing?”

“I was facing a shoulder reconstruction if I kept going.” He looks away. “But mainly it was for my mum. I wanted to be around a bit more. And you know. In the mountains, anything can happen. She couldn’t have handled losing me as well.”

I swallow, wishing I hadn’t asked. “It must have been so hard on your parents.”

“It tore my family apart,” he says quietly. “It’s all Mum can talk about, all she can think of. Dad battled for years to have Saskia declared dead. Thought it would help Mum move on. It takes seven years normally to be deemed dead in absentia, but Mum wouldn’t have it. Fought it in court, insisting she was still alive. Pointed to the credit card transactions. It got dragged out till last month.” His voice cracks. “Mum didn’t take it well.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“She’s not convinced it was an accident. There’s no proof that Saskia was even on the mountain that day.”

“But Brent and Heather saw her up there.”

“They said they saw her.” Curtis searches my face. “Ten years ago I asked you something and I sensed you weren’t being entirely honest with me.”

I tense.

“I’m going to ask you again.” His gaze burns into me and I try my hardest not to flinch. “Do you know where my sister is?”

It’s okay—he’s not asking the right question. “No.”

“Do you think she’s still alive?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t.” I watch for him to slump a little, but he gives nothing away.

“So what do you think happened to her?”