I take out my phone again. At least with the heat blasting through the vents, my fingers are warm enough to move. I try searching for every possible combination of terms. Alaska. Winter. Festival. Forest. South of Anchorage. But I get no leads. I try calling Melody again and again, but her phone is still not ringing.

My father’s called and texted ten times asking where I am, that he’s worried, and can I please come back?

I have no idea what to do. Tears have welled in my eyes and I’m trying to stop myself from becoming a waterfall.

I send a message to Oliver, my fingers racing over the letters at super-speed.

My father’s a major loser after all. We were out having dinner and I couldn’t stand another second. Going to find Melody in the forest, don’t know how exactly, but I will. Getting my passport, then heading to the airport and coming home … Can’t wait to see you.

Ted puts up the heat. ‘You warm enough?’

I nod.

If I survive this weirdo truck driver, I add to the message, and press send.

‘Beef jerky?’ He passes a bag to me.

‘It’s okay, I’ve just eaten.’

‘Want to tell me what’s going on then? I’m not a bad listener, so my wife says anyway.’

I feel slightly relieved at the mention of a wife.

‘Did you have a fight with someone?’

I’m not sure what to say.

‘Maybe I can help?’

I look at him again out of the corner of my eye. He seems nice enough. ‘My father,’ I say. ‘I came here to meet him and I just found out he’s totally different to what I thought. He’s lied to me, well …’ I want to keep it real. ‘Not lied, exactly, but didn’t tell me stuff. I thought he was one way and now I’ve found out he’s another.’

This guy may be a hunter too, so I choose my words carefully. I definitely don’t want to get into an argument.

Ted doesn’t answer for a while, and I stare out the window. It’s just blackness.

‘Sounds like my old man,’ he says eventually. ‘We never got on well. Opposites, you’d say.’

He stops and I wait.

‘I was a righteous, angry dude when I was younger, and we never stopped fighting,’ he says quietly. ‘Now, I’d give the skin off my back to see my father again, make amends.’

‘Why don’t you?’ I ask.

‘He’s gone now. Watching me from heaven.’

‘Oh. Sorry.’