Anuk came out to the lobby. She too looked tired, her hair rebraided and pinned back under a surgical cap. “She’s out of the woods. We gave her a transfusion, stitched her back up. And her leg is set, but . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t think she’ll be up to mushing again.”

“Ever?” Echo asked.

“We’ll see, but I doubt it. It puts a lot of strain on a dog to mush.”

“She loves running,” Echo said softly. “Can I see her?”

“She’s still sedated. Why don’t you go home, get some rest, and come back later? We’ll keep her under watch.”

“I don’t want her to be scared.” Echo picked up her scarf. “Can you tuck this in next to her?”

Anuk smiled and took the scarf. “We’ll call when she wakes.”

Echo stood there, just breathing. Holly will live.

Next to her, Dodge was pulling on his jacket and grabbing his hat. “Do you need a ride?” He stood away from her, his blue eyes cool.

“Um . . .” She didn’t know why, but she thought . . . maybe he’d . . . “I think I can get a ride. Thanks for your help last night.”

“Yep.” He headed for the door.

Wait— “Dodge?”

He turned, a quick look.

After a moment, where she tried to find words—

“What?”

“So, are you really back?”

He raised a shoulder. “Until my father is back on his feet.”

Oh. “Are you okay?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“I just thought . . . maybe we could talk?”

His chest rose and fell. “I don’t think there’s anything to say, Echo.”

“But . . . you were so . . . you comforted me.”

“Your dog was hurt.”

Yes. Right, but, “Don’t you think we should air things out?”

“I think by now anything worth saying is gone. There’s nothing to air out.”

No ire in his voice, no emotion at all. Just words. Words between strangers. And nothing in his eyes either. Icy blue, cool, detached.

She swallowed past a fist in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

His lips thinned to a fine line. Then, “I forgive you.”

Her mouth opened, and stupid tears burned her eyes. “Oh, Dodge, thank you. I’ve felt so terrible for so long—” She closed the gap, put her arms around his waist, leaned into him. “I don’t know how it went so wrong, and knowing how I hurt you . . .”

He didn’t move. Didn’t put his arms around her. Didn’t pat her back. Nothing.

She finally released him and looked up. He was looking away, out the window. “Feel better?” He looked at her.

She stepped back. “Not . . . really.”

“Yeah. Well, let it go, Echo. I have. It’s over. Good luck with your dog.”

He opened the door and walked outside.

She stood there, watching him go and . . .

No. No, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.