“No. No, I’ll stay with Maeve.”

Sim looks up sharply. Karo shakes her head at him.

“I’m the director. I can’t possibly leave anyone up here. I can’t leave at all. I’m responsible for the center,” she says. “And for Anna, for that matter.” She turns to Dan. “Sim will go down with you. You’ll go in pairs, Sim and Justin, Sadie and Dan—”

Dan cuts her off. “Sadie, no—”

“You don’t get a choice, Dan.” Sadie stands up, gathering her papers and the map. Defiant in that same way. “You’re not in charge. Do you get it? You’re not a soldier anymore, and this isn’t the army.” She gains confidence as she goes, ramping up. “You’re just a high-priced handyman now. Karo is the boss—”

“—absolutely, yes,” Karo says. “And I need Sadie to act as my proxy.”

But then she turns to Sadie herself. “Stop provoking—we all have to get along.” It’s a weak reaction, and even as Sadie swallows her yes, Dan is stepping in front of her again.

“We can’t leave two women up here alone.”

Maeve watches him. Something’s changed. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t lash out at Sadie as he has in the past. His jaw is clenched; there’s a stiff fury burning in him now, just under his skin.

Karolina smiles her professional smile.

“Of course you can. Don’t be stupid about this. You’re a fine team—go for help. It’s the smartest thing.”

“I want to stay,” Sim says. “I already said I’m staying here.” He’s speaking to Dan.

It’s Karo who answers him.

“No.” Her smile cuts off. “You can’t. We need you out there on the trail.”

She gives the survey a final glance, then walks toward her office, gesturing to Sadie to follow behind.

“I have two boxes of tools. You can take one of them. Plus whatever else we have on-site. There’s tarps and more flares down in storage, I’m sure.”

Maeve steals a look at Sim, expecting him to keep insisting, but he’s remarkably quiet. He looks thoughtful but restless.

“Okay, then,” is all he says. “Let me get my pack.”

Karo is in her office, leaning hard on the desk, when Maeve comes in. She pulls up stiffly.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Maeve says. Karo adjusts the candles on her desk and gestures for her to close the door. Behind her, Sadie shuffles a few papers out of an envelope, then stares at Maeve in silence.

Or arrogance. Daring Maeve to tell.

Maeve cannot wait to be rid of her. Sadie and Dan can tear each other to pieces out in the snow for all she cares.

Karo lowers herself onto the couch by the window.

“You know,” Maeve says, “if you’d rather go, I can manage, I can—”

“You can’t.” There’s a beat. “And I can’t,” Karo says.

She’s sitting tensely, as though the very action of sitting is work; she looks like every muscle is in slight contraction.