#Chapter 65: A Fire in the Cold

Owen The cold hit first—sharp and unrelenting—before my eyes even opened. I could feel it sinking through my jacket, biting into my skin. My breath fogged in the freezing air, but something was wrong. I couldn’t feel anything. Blinking against the blinding whiteness, I saw only snow. We had fallen. The cliff. The storm. My whole body ached, throbbed, as if waking up slowly. “Ouch…Mom?” My voice barely cut through the howling wind. I tried to sit up, but the snow was too deep, too heavy. My eyes searched, but everything was just a blur. Nothing but white. Then, beneath me—warm. Soft, but not snow-soft. Jacket-soft. “Mom!” Panic rushed through me as I pushed off the snow, desperate to see her. I found her face—pale, eyes closed, but breathing. I could feel the faintest hope. “Mom, please!” I shook her, my heart racing, matching the frantic rhythm of the wind. “Wake up!” She stirred, eyes fluttering. “W-what happened?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and my breath caught.