door is closed. But through the front window I see a shadow—my father is standing in the back of the living room near the piano, watching us.
Thank you, I mouth. He tips his head forward and disappears into the den.
CHAPTER 28
“Nervous?” Aksel asks.
Above us, the sky is a thick layer of white cloud pierced by knifepoints of blue. A deft wind sends snowflakes swirling around us.
I click into my gleaming new boots and laugh. “Skiing doesn’t scare me.”
“What does scare you?”
I point across the road. “Them.”
Tourists, wearing expensive one-piece ski suits, have prematurely clicked into their skis and are attempting to walk across the pavement. Their helmets are on backward, and their goggles are on upside down.
Aksel snickers. “Steer clear.”
At the base of Waterford Resort, we ski into line to access the upper runs.
The lift creaks around the track, and I sit down on the hard seat. As we swing upward, I want to reach out and touch the spiky treetops. I want to stand at the peak of the mountain. Challenge it. Conquer it.
We ski off the lift and pause on the flat plateau at the head of the run. To our left, an intermediate trail descends gradually. Directly ahead, the steep mountain narrows into a chute descending through trees.
I angle my skis toward the top of the chute. “Here?” I shout to Aksel.
I don’t hear his response. Instead, I am blinded by assaulting snow flurries.
Laughter explodes behind me. A figure in all black—from helmet to boots—has hockey-stopped beside me.
“Took you long enough!” Blond hair curling out from the bottom of his helmet indicates who sprayed the snow—Mason.
“Sophia is finally skiing, and she chooses a double black as her first run?” another familiar voice shouts.
Grinning, I look over at a skier in a pink helmet and fur-trimmed ski outfit—Charlotte. “Skis look good on you!” She whistles. “Sure you can keep up?”
“I didn’t know Parisian girls could ski!” Mason taunts.
“I’M NOT PARISIAN!” I proclaim, laughing.
I look at Aksel, who is bent forward, on his poles, watching me, smirking. Henry and a girl named Sarah are beside him, laughing.
I flick my pole at Aksel’s chest. “I’ll see you at the bottom.”
“Is that a challenge?” Even while wearing a helmet and fluorescent goggles, Aksel is betrayed by his smile as the best-looking boy on the mountain.
I laugh. “Last one to the bottom buys lunch.”
Digging my poles into the packed snow, I angle my skis downhill, drop off the flat plateau, and descend into the narrow chute.
Behind me Emma shouts, “We’re not allowed to race!”
“A rule you only follow because you never win!” Mason shouts back.
Waterford may not produce the fastest skiers on the circuit, but it definitely produces the most fearless. Charlotte does a 360 off a mogul even my father wouldn’t try—and lands it. From the chute, I ski over into the light, fresh powder, hidden among tight clumps of pine trees.
In seconds, it returns—the rhythm, the icy thrill.
“On your left!” hollers Emma as she skis past me, bypassing a tree with low-hanging branches. I catch up to Charlotte as she catapults off another jump.
I only lose my balance once, while in thigh-deep powder at full clip.
Back on packed snow, I carve down the steep terrain. I push my shins into my boots, curl over my knees, and tuck my arms close to my hips. Accelerating faster and faster, I fly down the steep mountainside.
I soar, and for the first time in over eighteen months, I am free.
CHAPTER 29
Driving home in the late afternoon, I am warm, glowing from skiing all weekend. Aksel squeezes my hand and turns to me with a smile that makes me flush.
I start to say, “I’m so glad,” but stop.
Two unmarked black vehicles are reversing out of my driveway onto Edgewood Lane.
My body stiffens. My heart starts pounding.
“Sophia?” Aksel’s sharp voice feels distant.
Sudden tension locks my body into place.
The vehicles pass us with windows so dark we can’t see through them.
Aksel slows to a stop. “Who was that?” His even tone fails to mask his stony expression.
“No one. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say hastily.
“Sophia.” He clutches my hand. “What’s going on?”
“Promise you’ll pick me up for school?” I say placidly. “I had fun this weekend.”
Aksel’s face betrays his unwillingness to let me go, but I must go inside, and he must leave. Inside is my past and Aksel is my future and the two can never meet. Not now. Not today. They have to remain apart.