Arianne woke to an empty bed.
His side was cold. He'd been up a while. Sounds carried from the kitchen — whispering, something clattering, a sharp "Shh!" from Lily followed by exaggerated tiptoe sounds that defeated the purpose.
She lay there. The gray winter light through the window. The mountains white and silent.
She got up. Reached for his sweater from yesterday — it was warm, it smelled like him. Pulled it on. Didn't think about it.
Walked out.
The cabin had changed overnight.
A handmade banner stretched across the main window: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY AUNT ARIA" in Lily's careful printing. Paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling on invisible thread — dozens of them. Some precise and intricate. Others crumpled from overzealous cutting. Leo's work. He'd been cutting them in secret for days.
The table was set with the cabin's best plates. Pancakes stacked high. Berries arranged in a circle. Whipped cream in a bowl. Hot chocolate steaming.
