“That’s why they took them, isn’t it?” Curtis says. “They wanted us stuck here.”

A shiver runs through me. What else do they have planned for us?

“We fly out tomorrow night,” Heather says. “Back at work on Monday. What are we going to do?”

“Have some breakfast?” Curtis says.

Heather swears.

“Then we make our own way down,” Curtis continues. “Good thing whoever planned this wasn’t smart enough to take our boards along with our phones.”

Dale clears his throat. “Heather doesn’t have a snowboard.”

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that.

Curtis looks hopefully at me and Brent. “Got a spare?”

Brent and I shake our heads.

Curtis eyes Heather’s boots. “Tell me you’ve at least brought some other footwear.”

“Yeah,” she says.

“That’s a relief.”

She glances awkwardly at her husband. “My strappy heels.”

Curtis puts his head in his hands.

And he’s right. We have a problem.

“I told you,” Dale says.

Heather looks mutinous. “If I’d known we were bloody mountaineering down, I wouldn’t have bloody come.”

Hardly mountaineering, I’m about to say. Then I remember the top section of the route down. One of the resort’s many black runs—extremely difficult, for experts only—it’s steep and riddled with rocks. With snowboards on, our biggest concern would be the patchy snow cover and the risk of damaging our boards. Without a snowboard, though, Heather would basically be mountaineering in places.

This is bad.

“What size are you, Heather?” I say.

“Five.”

“I’m a seven. You can always wear my Converse with a couple of pairs of socks.”

Heather nods.

I shoot Dale a look. Hope you feel guilty for threatening me now.

“What about you, Milla?” Curtis says.

“I’ll keep my snowboard boots on.” My new ones that I haven’t yet broken in. I wince at the thought of the blisters.

All of us—even Dale—look at Curtis for his verdict. Having spent practically his whole life in the mountains, Curtis is easily the most experienced person present.

He shakes his head. “I don’t like it. The snow will be icy as hell after having the sun on it all summer. Even in Converse, she’ll be sliding around all over the place until we reach the bottom of the snow line.”

“We could put a rope on her,” I say.

“There’s rope in that storage room near the main entrance,” Dale says.

He and Curtis must still be sore at each other—quite literally—over last night, but they’re managing to put aside their differences. We’re pulling together, all equally keen to get out of this place.

“Ever done any climbing?” Curtis asks Heather. “Hill walking even?”

Heather shakes her head, her face pale.