34. COLD LUST.

MIA’S POV. The university called it a Winter Literary Retreat. It was supposed to be five days in the mountains of Banff, Canada, to connect with nature, explore creative expression, and experience literature beyond the classroom. I’d only come because Ms Violet said attendance counted toward our final project. Otherwise, I’d have been at home, warm, sane, and far away from this mess. I shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Now, I was tucked in a snowstorm nobody knew when it would end. Bullshit. Thick curtains of white blanketed everything outside the lodge. The pine trees, the road, even the cars that had been parked out front this morning. The wind howled like a living thing, slamming against the windows so hard the glass rattled. Snow piled in swirling heaps, blurring the horizon into an endless sheet of grey. It wasn’t just bad, it was dangerous. Flights were grounded. Highways closed. Even the hotel staff said the snowploughs couldn’t get through till the weather cleared, a