Adam takes out one of those thingies that tell you which direction you’re going in. He squints at the sky, scans the horizon and then drops his gaze back to the map. His face is relaxed; he looks in his element, at home. And he and Jaxon are tuned into each other.

‘Back this way,’ my father says and we U-turn, retracing our steps. I want to ask, Are we there yet? but stop myself. The last thing I want is my mountain-man father to think I’m some useless city girl, even if I am.

‘A little more to the west, over that hill.’ Jaxon points.

‘Do people ski here?’ I ask.

‘All the time. Do you know how?’

‘Nope.’

Another fifteen minutes go by. Or it could be fifty. The hemlocks have given way to what I learn are birch—bare bodied and thin in the trunk, their branches make geometric shapes, nature’s art. My legs aching, I’m almost in a trance, trudging along behind them, my breath making clouds, snowsuit whooshing rhythmically in time with my steps. The sun’s out and the snow now twinkles like diamond dust. A slight breeze rustles the branches, scattering more snow around us. My mind wanders to Oliver, kissing my favourite freckle next to his left eye, and I get tingles. Then I see my best friend Lucy making her coconut cupcakes, me licking the bowl. My dog Bella, the two of us spooning in bed. Knowing she’s pining for me is horrible. I can’t tell her when I’ll be home or even reassure her I’ll be back at all. I see Chirp in her enclosure at Lucy’s family bird sanctuary. How’s her lame leg? I hope it’s not bothering her and she’s not in pain; Lucy promised to message me if it got worse. Is she giving Chirp her favourite summer treat, watermelon? Probably … Lucy loves Chirp almost as much as I do. Chirp looks so cute when the feathers around her beak are dyed pink with juice. And how’s Paula feeling today? If she could only see me now, she’d laugh herself silly. I can’t wait to have a little cousin. Although, Oliver’s ballet-obsessed sister, Sabine, has almost become a sister to me too; she looks up to me and hangs on my every word. I wonder if a first cousin will be the same, and if she’ll be a girl. I really hope—

‘Shhh!’ Jaxon stops dead and squints through his binoculars.

‘A deer?’ I whisper to my father. He puts his finger to his lips.

I desperately want to see one, a little spotty foal, how amazing would that be? My toes are icing up again so I start wriggling them.

‘This is the mother’s den,’ Jaxon says. ‘The alpha female. The female and male heads are called the alphas; they are parents, leaders of their family and the pack. Take a look.’ Jaxon hands me the binoculars, the same type Lucy and her dad use for birdwatching.