stood there.
Michael and Ashley.
And beside their footprints was another mark in the snow.
A long, deep line.
Something had been dragged.
I pointed toward it.
“There.”
The rescuer looked.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
But somehow, I knew it mattered.
The helicopter pulled me upward.
And as the ledge disappeared beneath me, I made myself a promise.
If I survived, Michael Carter would regret the day he pushed me.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because I wanted the truth.
And because somewhere inside that storm, I had realized something terrifying.
Michael hadn’t planned only for my death.
He had planned for everyone to believe it.
When I opened my eyes again, there was a ceiling above me.
White.
Bright.
Unfamiliar.
A monitor beeped beside my bed.
For several seconds, I didn’t know where I was.
Then I remembered.
The cliff.
The fall.
Michael.
My hands flew toward
