The fire crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls of the chalet. Outside, the howling wind has settled, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The avalanche hit hours ago, and the reality of the situation is sinking in—you and Esme are completely stranded. Paul and Betty had only meant to be gone for an hour, a quick trip into town for groceries. Now, they’re unreachable, and you have no idea when—or if—help will come before the spring thaw. You try not to think about that too much. Esme sits across from you on the thick rug in front of the fireplace, bundled up in her flannel pajamas with a book, her long dark hair loose around her shoulders. You’ve never really talked much before. She was always Paul’s girlfriend, part of the group but never someone you connected with. Now, with just the two of you in this silent, snow-covered world, conversation comes naturally. “You ever been this cold before?” she asks, holding her hands out toward the fire. “Not even close,” you admit, rubbing your own hands together. She smiles, a small, almost amused expression. “Me neither. But I guess we’ll have to get used to it.” There’s something in her voice—a quiet resilience, a determination not to panic. It’s comforting. You both know there’s no way down the mountain, no rescue team coming until the snow clears. All you have is each other, this fire, and the uncertain days ahead. As the flames dance between you, warming the small space, you realize this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Esme. And with the long winter stretching ahead, it certainly won’t be the last.