Dallas

Bex is barking. I look up, wondering why they’re still outside, when Bex comes tearing around the corner like a rabid dog.

My heart lodges in my throat as warning bells go off. “Marti?” I yell, glancing around. “Where are you?”

When there’s no response and he’s still barking his head off, I say, “Take me to her.”

Bex runs in the other direction, looking back at me to make sure I’m following him.

Dread crawls up my spine when he leads me to the pond.Oh, Jesus Christ, there’s a hole in the ice.

I race to the edge and fall to my knees, scraping the foot or so of snow away as I carefully navigate my way out. The pond isn’t deep, maybe four feet at the center, more like two or so where the hole is. “Marti!” I scream, staring at the hole while frantically brushing away more snow.

Then I see a patch of darkness through the ice and a tornado of fear rips through me.No, no, no, no, no. It’s my navy-blue sweatshirt.

I stand up, move to the left, and jump high, bringing all my weight down on the ice. I do it three times and then it cracks. I move chunks of inch-thick ice out of the way and fish my way to her, my chest throbbing violently.

When I reach her and pull her toward me, I’m devastated to see her blue lips and still body. Nightmares bombard me. I close my eyes and see Phoebe’s blank eyes staring into mine as her lips curve down. DJ reaches toward me, then his arm falls to his side as they both drift away. This cannot be happening again.

“Save her!”a voice screams in my head, shaking me from my nightmare.“You have to save her!”

It’s not my voice, however. It’s… Phoebe’s.

I put my arms under Marti and hoist her out of the freezing water, ignoring the stabbing, numbing pain in my legs. When her hand moves and her eyes open, I cry out, releasing a strangled breath.

Her gaze fixates on me. Does she even know what’s happening to her?

Carefully, with her in my arms, I break more ice, moving it out of the way while I trudge the last ten feet to shore. “Hold on, Marti. I’ve got you.”

Her sunken, hollow eyes stare up at me as I run to the cabin, Bex still barking behind me. I swing open the door then kick it shut behind us, put her down on the floor, then haul my mattress off the bed and over by the fireplace. I pick up her limp body, carry her onto the mattress, and start removing her clothes.

Holy God she’s cold. She’s not shivering. That can’t be good. Her eyes drift closed.

“No!” I pull and tug and maybe even rip the soaked Yale sweatshirt off her. I tear away the tank top underneath, and then her sleep pants, yanking off her shoes and tossing them aside.

I grab as many blankets as I have and cover her. “Marti, don’t go to sleep. Open your eyes.”

She makes a noise. “Nnnnnnn.” Then her entire body starts shivering.

I have to bring her body temp up. I get next to her and pull her close, but all I’m doing is making the blankets wet. Hastily, I stand and rip my own clothes off, then I get under the blankets with her and use my body heat to warm her. I run my hands along her frozen arms and back, rubbing with so much friction I worry I’m hurting her, but she has to get warm. Shehasto. This… this can’t happen again.

“S-s-s-s-o c-c-c-cold,” she mumbles.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

I tuck a blanket around her wet hair then go back to cuddling her body as close to me as I can.

Minutes pass. Her uncontrolled shivering lessens but doesn’t abate.

“You’re doing great,” I tell her. “You’ll be warm and toasty in no time. Think warm thoughts. Chicken soup. Steaming coffee.”

“H-hot ch-chocolate?” she asks.

I laugh, mostly out of relief. “I think that can be arranged.”

“I’ve n-never b-been so c-cold in m-my l-life,” she stutters.

“Things could be worse,” I say. “You could be as cold as old Abe.”