Uninjured. Not frozen to death overnight, after all.

Alive.

Maeve hears herself gasp, a sob caught in her throat. She’s not alone. Dan moves slowly and carefully through the snow, his hands raised.

He yells again: “Stop! Put it down!”

Maeve realizes, suddenly, that Dan is yelling at her. The gun in her hands is still trained on him. She had assumed everything Sim told her was a lie. She thought Dan was dead, frozen like Anna or shot with his own gun, somewhere down the mountain. But if he followed Sim back up here through the night—

She shifts, suddenly unsure of whom to keep in her sight.

“Maeve!” Sim spins to face her. The two men flanking her and Maeve left swiveling to try and keep an eye on them both.

Dan comes closer.

“Maeve, put it down.” He’s still got his hands out so she can see them, but he’s approaching her sidelong, eyes trained on Sim. “I need you to give me the gun and get behind me. He’s dangerous—”

“The gun stays with me.” Maeve’s voice has fallen a little lower, harsher. She’s starting to have a hard time getting breath into her body and it shows.

But Dan keeps coming. He moves in, focused now only on Sim.

“I followed you,” he says. “I knew you’d come back here.”

He cracks his jaw slightly, and Maeve can see the dark bruise at one eye, a strange angle to his face—as though something is off. She realizes his nose is broken.

Sim watches him rigidly, then turns back to Maeve. Surprised, but recovering fast.

“Maeve. You can’t trust him, Maeve. Give the gun up. Give it to me.”

Maeve begins to edge back, toward the lift. If she can just get farther away, she can keep both of them in sight at once. Her hand has fully seized now; she moves the gun between them, first on Dan, then Sim, but the pain of trying to hold it steady makes her arm shudder.

“Stay where you are,” Maeve says again. Imperative that they don’t know that the weapon is almost useless.

Dan still moving closer.

“Maeve,” Sim says, matching him, moving in on the other side. “I didn’t kill Sadie. He did. That’s why he’s tracked me back here. He knows I know. Maeve—”

She wheels to train the gun on Dan and he stops dead, hands up.

“Where’s Justin?” she says. When he doesn’t answer, she brings her voice up louder, but it cracks as she tries to speak: “Karo is dead, Dan. She killed herself.” He flinches at the words but Maeve pushes on, working to keep from crying. “Sadie is dead too. Where is Justin, Dan? I want to know what happened to Justin. What happened out there?”