Chapter 1

The smell of ozone and wet pine filled the air, a scent I knew meant a blizzard was coming. I stood by the window of my Boulder home, watching the first fat, wet flakes of snow begin to fall.

My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Tyler' s name. I let it vibrate against the cold glass.

In my last life, this call was the beginning of the end. Tyler' s panicked voice, begging me to go find Ethan who was lost on a solo hike in the Rockies. I went, of course. I was Chloe, the climbing prodigy, the wilderness SAR volunteer. Ethan was my lifelong crush, the man I thought I would marry.

I found him near a treacherous ridge, hypothermic but alive. During the rescue, a sudden shift in the snow sent me tumbling. My leg shattered. The brilliant career, the sponsorships, the future I had built-it all ended there.

I became a reclusive gear designer, a cripple in the eyes of the world, and especially in the eyes of the man I saved. Ethan married me out of pity, or maybe guilt. Our life was a quiet, agonizing performance.

The end came in a house fire. I was trapped by my bad leg, the smoke thick and choking. I watched through the haze as Ethan, my husband, and our teenage son dragged his long-time mistress, Brooke, out of the flames.

My own son screamed at me.

"You' re a cripple! You ruined Dad' s life!"

Those were the last words I heard before the roof caved in.

Then I woke up. Here. Today. The day it all went wrong.

The phone buzzed again, insistent. This time, I answered.

"Chloe! Thank God! You have to go find Ethan!" Tyler' s voice was a frantic mess. "He went hiking up near the Flatirons, and this storm just came out of nowhere! The official SAR is mobilizing, but they' re too slow! You know those mountains better than anyone!"

I listened to his panic, a sound that once would have sent my own adrenaline surging. Now, it was just noise.

I took a calm breath.

"No, Tyler."

Silence on the other end. He probably thought the connection was bad.

"What? Chloe, did you hear me? Ethan is out there!"

"I heard you," I said, my voice even. "The professional Search and Rescue team is the correct and safest choice. They have the resources and protocols for a reason. Interfering would be irresponsible."

"Irresponsible? He' s your best friend! He could die!"

"Then he should have checked the weather forecast," I replied, the words feeling foreign and powerful on my tongue. I had never spoken them before. "I' m alerting the authorities myself to make sure they have his last known location."

I hung up before he could argue, my finger tapping the screen to dial 911. I gave the dispatcher the information calmly and precisely. Then, I turned off my phone, walked into my living room, and sat down.

The snow fell harder, blanketing the world in white. I didn't feel a thing.