We would always go skiing with the Duncans on Christmas. Even Penny would come when we were kids, before all of her injuries and ailments began. Blair was a year older than Penny, and, according to her, he was exceptionally cute. And, really, he never did seem to go through much of an awkward phase. Luke and I were already obsessed with skiing, spending hours at his house watching VHS ski videos on his big screen and using the giant trampoline in his backyard to practice tricks and flips in the summer, or doing them straight off their dock into Lake Coeur d’Alene. Normally we didn’t like to ski with anyone other than Blair, but Christmas Day was always just for fun.

I remember clearly the last time we went as a group because it was days before Tad Duncan left his wife. Tad was trying to give his family one last holiday together, but at twelve, fifteen, and seventeen, respectively, the Duncan kids were old enough to know that something was up.

We started at the top of the hill together, but soon Luke had rocketed off through the trees by himself. There was no way Penny and the eldest Duncan sibling, Kristina, were going in there, but I nodded to Blair, and we followed him. We’d long been skiing off the runs at Silver Mountain, no matter how much trouble we got into for doing it. But that day Luke was barreling through the trees like a bat out of hell. I skied with Luke often enough to know the difference between him being daring and him being reckless. By the time we cleared the forest, all three of us were breathless.

“Hey,” I said, clamping a gloved hand on Luke’s shoulder, “you okay?” He was doubled over and breathing hard. He didn’t answer me, and I looked over at Blair, who pulled his mask up, his brow furrowed. It was a rare bluebird December day, and from where we were you could see for miles in any direction. Suddenly, Luke let out a howl that rang out before being swallowed by the crush of snow and tree branches. He collapsed backward, his skis still bound to his feet and sticking straight up.

“Our parents are getting divorced,” Luke said as I popped my skis off and sat beside him on the snow. I was already outgrowing my nearly new ski pants and I had to maneuver to be able to sit comfortably.

“What?” I looked to Blair for confirmation. He sighed and sat on the other side of Luke, putting a thick, ski-jacketed arm around his little brother.

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Mom has been crying for two weeks straight! She thinks she’s hiding it. She drank a whole bottle of wine last night at dinner. It’s Bethany, just watch.”

“Bethany from the company?”