Tad swiftly took over my career, introducing me to his circle of wealthy ski fans, including a very impressive self-made female e-commerce millionaire who was dying to get her hands on a promising female skier. I felt no qualms about being her show pony. It wasn’t long before my old rival from juniors, Sarah Sweeny, fired her team at Vail and, with her rich dad and their entourage, decamped to the burgeoning Sun Valley club. I’d hoped that with more time together Sarah and I might become friends, but I quickly learned that her nickname—Snow Queen—was well-earned.

Meanwhile, Penny started college at Boise State, sharing a room with Emily in a neobrutalist dorm on campus that she e-mailed me pictures of once the two of them had decorated with twin beds jacked up on blocks and fairy lights strung from the ceiling. My sister—who’d never been much of an academic—was suddenly talking about going premed. However, given the rotating cast of new college boys that otherwise dominated my phone calls with her, this scholarly turn felt unlikely to stick.

Maybe I always would have gravitated toward Luke, or maybe it was only that the chance presented itself. It was 1998, Luke and I were nineteen and Blair was twenty-two and, to the surprise of his father and our coaches, it was the older brother who made the Olympic team first. Both Luke and I missed out by a few slots, leaving us home to pout while Blair—suddenly the golden boy of his father and the Sun Valley trustees—went to Nagano with Tad, Ann, and Bethany in tow. They’d offered to take us along, but somehow it seemed like being there would be worse. I felt I might combust with envy. This was a decision I’d come to regret for many reasons.

The night before they left for Japan, I found Blair sitting by himself in the massive living room of the chalet, staring into the fireplace, a blanket over his knees.

“Hey, B,” I said, coming over with a couple of mugs of hot chocolate I’d just made. “You want some or is it not on the Olympic regimen?”

He smiled at me and lifted the corner of the blanket so I could get under it with him.

“I’ll make an exception.”

“How are you doing?” I asked. “Are you excited?”

He nodded, though he looked preoccupied. “Of course. I don’t know, this isn’t how I pictured things, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, honestly, Bomber, if anything I thought it would be me going along as the third wheel to cheer for you and Luke.”

I looked into the fire for a moment. I’d been so focused on how hard it was for Luke and me to be left behind, I hadn’t thought about how it might feel for Blair to be out ahead, on his own.