Back Snow Save as PDF
Chapters (33)
  1. Cover
  2. About the book/blurb
  3. Title Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. Dedication
  6. Also by Ondine Sherman
  7. Chapter 1
  8. Chapter 2
  9. Chapter 3
  10. Chapter 4
  11. Chapter 5
  12. Chapter 6
  13. Chapter 7
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Acknowledgements
  32. About the Author
  33. A Sneak Peek at Star

I think of Mum, always helping people out, like giving free pastries to the homeless hanging outside the bakery where she worked, when the owner wasn’t around. She had the kindest heart in the world.

‘I am,’ I say, sure she’d be proud of me.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Someone nudges me. ‘Time to get up, Sky.’ My father’s voice.

My eyes are filled with gravel as I drag myself to the bathroom. It’s dark. I can’t believe I got my period, talk about the worst timing.

Yesterday, we spent hours at the camp store in the centre of town. My father bought me a seriously expensive snowsuit, extra-warm boots, the most insanely thick, padded socks I’ve ever seen, multiple thermals, and a bunch of other equipment. He spent an absolute fortune. I did offer to pay, and luckily he insisted, because I don’t have anything like that kind of money. We did a tour of the main streets of Anchorage and he explained some of the local history. Like how America bought Alaska from the Russians for two cents an acre, which was a bargain as today the state brings in squillions in oil and minerals.

I wanted him to know I appreciated being here, so I made sure to compliment the little city, which although empty has several giant bear sculptures, bear-proof rubbish bins painted by local artists, funny shop signs like Once in a Blue Moose and cool spots like the Dog Mushing Hall of Fame.

Along the way, I petted several gorgeous doggies who were out and about despite the cold. I didn’t see a single Alaskan husky, but one small pooch wore a furry jacket—too cute—and another had snowshoes. Or socks, really. First time I’ve seen that! I forced my father to take a picture of me kissing the face of the pug-nosed dog with his elderly owners looking on, amused, and then I sent it to Oliver.

We spent the rest of the day sorting through equipment in between mouthfuls of Chinese takeaway. Melody sat yogi-style on the carpet, insisting on helping to roll everything tightly to save space. My father lent Jaxon his own extra thermals and coat, and made up the couch into a bed.