. She refused the attendant's offer of a wheelchair, her every step deliberate and firm, a silent declaratio

he calls. As they waited in the grand, sterile lobby, Arden noticed the sky outside had tur

he minutes ticked by. Ten. Twenty. The snow was falling faster now, driven by a rising wind that moaned t

ne. "I'll call the driver he gave me." She listened for a mome

had never left this place. She had fought, and they had sedated her, loc

aid, her voice calm. "Ask the fro

watched the snow, now a thick, swirling

They said no," she stammered, her voice trembling. "They said a blizzard warning has been is

he attendant said Mr. Monroe's car was here an hour ago, but he

g relief of surviving the ordeal fade

r cold and heavy snow have blocked all roads, no

never intend to

d through Arden. She curled her hands into fists insi

through the howl of the wind. "Now. B

ed, horrified. "It's miles t

d, her gaze fixed on the disappearing road.

step was a battle against the deepening drifts. Arden's body, already weakened from a week of forced inactivity and sedatives, qui

d. She stumbled, her ankle twisting beneath her, and fell face-

voice sounded distant, a desper

he low rumble of powerful engines vibrated through the frozen ground. A convoy of black SUVs, si

ling snow. He wore a heavy military greatcoat, its collar turned up against the wind. He moved with

ther glove and pressed two fingers against the side of her neck, his touch surprisingly

, speechless

d and unreadable. His voice was a low,