Chapter 3

Sarah Quinn felt a chill run through her body, her slight cough breaking the silence between the two figures not far away. Jack Cheney noticed her disheveled state and rushed over, quickly shedding his jacket and wrapping it around her. "Sarah? Why didn’t you wait for me over there? Did you walk all the way back by yourself on this long road?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Sarah’s lips were pale, and her trembling hand pointed at the watch on his wrist. "Do you even know what time it is? The snow is coming down hard, and there isn’t a single motel open in the neighboring area. How long exactly were you expecting me to wait? Until I froze to death?" Her words were sharp and merciless, cutting off whatever comfort Jack had meant to offer. Before the awkward tension could escalate, Lily Quinn came running over, her brow furrowed but her expression overly sweet as she clung to Jack’s sleeve. "Don’t blame Jack," she said in a tone that seemed both apologetic and smug. "It’s my fault. I wanted to surprise you both by coming early, but I didn’t realize you’d need the car at the same time." "I’m so sorry," she continued, her voice dripping with innocence. "If I had known, I never would have called Jack away. He was just trying to help me—you shouldn’t be mad at him." Sarah finally lifted her eyes, taking a good, long look at her younger sister. Lily’s hair was curled, her face lightly powdered, and even the white fur trim on her hood looked fresh and fluffy. It was clear Jack hadn’t let her brave the snow for even a moment. In contrast, Sarah’s thick military-style coat was soaked halfway through. Strands of wet hair clung to her face, making her look utterly miserable. It was the same story as always. When Sarah was just a baby, her parents had been transferred to a new job in another city. Not wanting to disrupt their work or, as they claimed, “put her through hardship,” they left her in the care of her grandmother. On holidays, they would send a few packages to show they hadn’t entirely forgotten her existence. But then Lily was born. The packages began to include photographs—sometimes of Lily alone, beaming brightly, and other times of their parents, a happy family of three. The letters contained only brief mentions of Sarah, while most of the pages were filled with glowing descriptions of Lily’s liveliness and charm. They reminded Sarah to take good care of her sister if they were ever reunited. All the love, attention, and comforts that Sarah had never dared to dream of had been handed to Lily from the moment she was born. Happiness made Lily even more radiant and carefree, while neglect had rendered Sarah quieter, more withdrawn. Sarah’s gaze shifted to Jack’s sleeve, still tightly gripped by Lily’s hand. Without a word, she brushed past them both and walked toward the east room. Jack frowned, his face clouded with guilt. He took a step to follow her, but Lily tugged on his arm, stopping him. "Jack," she said with a pout, "Mom says I’m not strong enough to handle the cold. I caught a lot of wind on the way here, and now I’m freezing. Could you make me some hot ginger tea to warm up?" Jack’s eyes lingered for a moment on the closed door of the east room before he reluctantly nodded. "…Alright. Go back to your room and wait. I’ll bring it to you once it’s ready." Outside the room, their conversation was perfectly audible to Sarah. She had expected herself to feel jealous, angry even, to blame Jack for leaving her out in the snow without a second thought. But now, sitting alone in the icy silence, she realized something. From the moment she saw them step out of the car together, the biting cold of the winter storm had seeped into her heart. And just like that, she found she didn’t love Jack Cheney quite so much anymore.