Page 55 of 44.1644° North

It happened so fast, I couldn’t seem to take it in.

George stumbled back, fired the rifle into the trees, and landed on his back, face upturned, eyes staring at the blue vault of the sky. Blood turned the powdery snow around him scarlet.

Black spots danced in front of my eyes. I closed them.

When I opened them again, George was still motionless in the snow and grass, and Simon was huddled in the middle of the trail, crying and swearing.

I watched Rory walk the miles between us. It seemed to take a lifetime before he put his arms around me.

“Okay?”

“I thought you were in Virginia.”

He gave a brief shake of his head. “Sometimes you’ve got to go with your gut.”

I said shakily, “Yeah. But thank you for allowing me to make my own mistakes.” I dropped my head on his shoulder.

His laugh was equally shaky. “Hey. I’m okay with you making your own mistakes so long as you’re okay with me following my instincts.”

“Deal.” The word was muffled against his coat.

“Hey, Sky?”

I raised my head, stared into his gray eyes.

“This is as cold as the light of day gets,” Rory said. “And I’m not changing my mind.”