Frostbound Hearts

Isla's POV

No one came with Isla Everhart to Silvercrest Academy.

No one hugged her goodbye. No one reminded her to eat properly or text when she arrived. While other first-years lingered with their families, promising to visit or waving one last time, Isla adjusted the straps of her backpack, gripped her suitcases, and walked toward the academy alone.

She told herself it was easier that way.

The first thing Isla learned about Silvercrest Academy was that pictures were liars. The brochures showed elegant towers covered in snow, peaceful gardens, and smiling students wandering to class. They forgot to mention the flying carriage that nearly hit her in the face.

A rush of wind swept past.

Isla yelped and jumped aside as a carriage pulled by two silver-winged horses sped past her head. A girl leaned out of the window and waved.

"Sorry!"

Then the carriage disappeared into the clouds.

Isla stared after it, expecting someone else to react.

Nobody did.

A boy nearby floated three textbooks beside him while eating a muffin. Two girls laughed as tiny sparks danced between their fingertips. A professor walked across the courtyard without giving the flying carriage so much as a glance.

Right.

This was a magical academy.

She let out a quiet breath and finally looked around. Silvercrest stretched before her like something from a storybook. Snow rested on towering rooftops, enchanted lanterns floated above the stone paths, and frost flowers shimmered beneath the winter sun. Magic filled the air as naturally as laughter.

It was beautiful. Beautiful enough to make her forget herself for a moment. That frightened her more than anything. She wasn't here to make friends or impress anyone with her magic. She was here to finish school, keep her head down, and leave without anyone remembering her name.

A cold breeze brushed her cheeks. Before she could stop it, frost gathered at her fingertips. Her heart skipped. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and kept walking, praying no one had noticed. She couldn't afford mistakes.

Not with a name like Everhart.

For years, people had looked at that name before they looked at her. They remembered the Winterfall Disaster. They remembered the family everyone blamed. They never cared enough to learn the truth. Isla swallowed the familiar lump in her throat. Silvercrest was supposed to be a new beginning. No one here knew who she was and she intended to keep it that way.

Twenty minutes later, she was hopelessly lost.

The tiny campus map in her hands seemed determined to confuse her. Every building looked the same, and she was fairly certain she had walked past the same marble statue three times.

"I hate you," she muttered to the map.

"Are you lost?"

Isla looked up so quickly she nearly dropped it.

A girl with curly brown hair and an impossibly bright smile stood beside her.

"No."

The girl glanced at the map.

"You know it's upside down, right?"

Heat rushed to Isla's face.

She folded it immediately.

"I knew that."

The girl laughed.

"No, you didn't."

"I did."

"You were arguing with it."

"It started it."

The girl grinned.

"I'm Poppy Sinclair."

She held out her hand.

Isla hesitated before shaking it.

"Isla."

"I know. We're roommates."

Of course they were.

Poppy picked up one of Isla's suitcases before she could protest.

"You walk really slowly."

"You walk too fast."

"You'll get used to me."

"I sincerely hope not."

Poppy only laughed.

For reasons Isla couldn't explain, she found herself smiling too.

Poppy talked the entire walk to the dormitory. She pointed out the library, the dining hall, and a clock tower that chimed every hour whether anyone wanted it to or not. Isla barely had to speak. Every time she thought the conversation had finally ended, Poppy found something new to say.

By the time they reached their room, Isla wasn't sure whether she was amused or exhausted.

Poppy pushed the door open excitedly.

"Home!"

Isla stepped inside and stopped.

The room was warm despite the winter outside. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, enchanted lanterns floated near the ceiling, and neat pots of frost flowers rested on the windowsill. It felt welcoming in a way she hadn't expected.

"If I'm going to be stuck here for four years," she said quietly, "at least it's a nice room."

"I knew you'd like it."

"You've known me for ten minutes."

"I have excellent instincts."

Isla smiled, shaking her head.

They unpacked together.

Well... Poppy unpacked while talking, and Isla unpacked while listening.

She didn't have much to unpack anyway. A few sweaters, some books, a notebook and a framed photograph. Her fingers lingered on the frame. She looked at the smiling faces for only a moment before placing it face down in the drawer. Looking at it for too long always left her missing people she could never have back.

The last thing she took from her suitcase was a small silver pendant. Its snowflake crest gleamed in the afternoon light. The Everhart crest. Once, she'd worn it proudly. Now she glanced toward Poppy before quietly slipping it beneath a stack of folded clothes at the back of the drawer. Some things were safer hidden.

As she closed the drawer, something on the windowsill caught her eye. Frost flowers. She crossed the room almost without thinking.

Their white petals shimmered beneath a thin layer of ice, just like the ones that used to bloom outside her childhood home.

For a minute, she wasn't standing in Silvercrest anymore. She was seven years old, running through fresh snow while her mother's laughter echoed across the gardens. Frost flowers bloomed wherever her tiny boots landed, and everything about the world had felt safe. The memory disappeared as quickly as it came and the room was quiet again.

Home had never felt farther away.

"You okay?"

Poppy's voice pulled her back. Isla blinked and forced a small smile.

"I'm fine."

Poppy studied her for a second, as though she knew there was more to the answer, but she simply nodded. Then the familiar sparkle returned to her eyes.

"So..."

Isla immediately recognized that look.

"What?"

"What do you think about hockey players?"

Isla frowned.

"What do hockey players have to do with anything?"

"Everything."

Poppy flopped down on her bed, looking delighted that she'd been given the chance to explain.

"The Frosthawks are Silvercrest's hockey team. They win almost every season, the whole academy loves them, and their captain is basically a celebrity."

"That's... a little dramatic."

"It really isn't."

Isla laughed softly.

"I'll take your word for it."

Poppy pointed at her.

"You won't have a choice."

"Why not?"

"Because sooner or later, everyone meets the Frosthawks."

"And their captain?"

Poppy grinned.

"Caspian Blackwood."

The name sounded familiar.

Even Isla had heard stories about the Blackwoods. Powerful family. Old magic. The kind of people whose names carried weight wherever they went.

"So," she said, folding another sweater, "he's probably arrogant."

Poppy laughed.

"I knew you'd say that."

"Am I wrong?"

She pretended to think.

"...Not completely."

"I knew it."

"But he's also annoyingly handsome."

"I don't care."

"That's what everyone says."

"I mean it."

Poppy smiled.

"We'll see."

Later that evening, Poppy finally convinced Isla to leave the dorm.

"You've been inside long enough," she said, already pulling on her coat. "You can't spend your first day hiding."

"I'm not hiding."

Poppy gave her a look.

"You've looked out that window at least five times in the last hour."

"I was admiring the view."

"You were avoiding people."

Isla sighed.

There wasn't much point arguing when Poppy was right.

The cold evening air greeted them the moment they stepped outside. The central courtyard was alive with students laughing around the fountain, chatting on stone benches, and tossing enchanted snowballs that burst into showers of glitter. Music drifted through the winter air, and for the first time since arriving, the academy felt less intimidating and more like a place where people truly belonged.

Isla watched them quietly.

Everyone seemed so comfortable here, wearing their magic as naturally as their winter coats. No one looked afraid of being seen. She wondered what that felt like. A sudden wave of cheers swept across the courtyard.

Students turned toward the academy gates almost at once, conversations fading as people hurried to get a better view.

Poppy groaned with a smile.

"They're back."

"The Frosthawks?"

"The one and only."

Isla looked around in disbelief as more students gathered near the entrance.

"They're just a hockey team."

"They're the hockey team."

"I still don't understand."

"You will."

The gates opened.

A group of students wearing navy and silver varsity jackets walked through, laughing among themselves as though they hadn't noticed the crowd waiting for them. The attention seemed to follow them effortlessly. Some students called out greetings, others waved excitedly, and a few simply watched in admiration.

Then Isla saw him.

Caspian Blackwood walked near the front of the group, his hockey jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder. There was an easy confidence in the way he carried himself, the kind that came from growing up with everyone expecting great things from you. He wasn't trying to be the center of attention.

He simply was.

Isla folded her arms.

People like him had probably never known what it felt like to hide their name.

Beside her, Poppy smiled.

"That's Caspian."

As though he had sensed someone watching, Caspian looked up. His gaze moved across the crowd without much interest. Then it found Isla.

He stopped.

Only for a second.

The confidence vanished from his face, replaced by unmistakable shock. His eyes stayed on hers as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. One of his teammates called his name and the moment broke.

Caspian blinked, his expression smoothing over before he continued walking, but the brief look on his face had already placed itself in Isla's mind.

She had never met Caspian Blackwood.

She was certain of that.

So why had he looked at her like he recognized her?

The question followed her long after he disappeared into the crowd.

And for the first time since arriving at Silvercrest Academy, Isla was afraid her secrets wouldn't stay buried.

Isla's POV

The dream always began the same way.

Ice stretched endlessly beneath Isla's feet, smooth and unbroken beneath a sky so dark it swallowed everything around her. There were no trees, no buildings and no sign that another person had ever existed.

Only endless ice.

Only silence.

Only her.

A cold wind brushed against her face, sharp enough to sting. She wrapped her arms around herself, but it did little to chase away the uneasy feeling settling deep in her chest. Something was wrong. She couldn't explain how she knew. It was simply there, pressing against her like the darkness itself.

Then she heard it.

A crack.

The sound echoed across the frozen lake.

Isla held her breath.

Another crack followed, louder this time, and the ice beneath her boots trembled.

Her pulse quickened.

"No," she whispered, taking a cautious step back.

"Absolutely not."

The frozen surface split again. Thin cracks spread across the ice, racing toward her feet like veins reaching through glass. Panic tightened around her chest. She spun in a slow circle, searching the endless darkness for anyone, anything, but there was nothing. No shelter, no footsteps and no escape.

Then a voice drifted through the wind.

Soft.

Almost gentle.

"Isla."

Her breath caught.

The voice wasn't familiar, yet something about it hinted at a memory she couldn't quite reach.

It called her name again.

This time, the ice gave way.

The cracks rushed beneath her boots, shattering the frozen surface before she could move. She stumbled backward, her arms flailing as the ground disappeared beneath her.

She was falling.

Just before the darkness swallowed her, the voice whispered one final word.

"Find..."

Isla bolted upright.

Her lungs burned as she dragged in a shaky breath, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might break through her ribs. Morning sunlight spilled through the dormitory window, painting golden streaks across the wooden floor. Outside, the frozen lake glittered peacefully beneath the early light, looking nothing like the endless wasteland from her dream.

She closed her eyes for a moment, as she tried to control her breathing. It had only been a dream. At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

A loud snore broke the silence.

Isla turned toward the other side of the room.

Poppy was sprawled across her bed in a position that looked physically impossible. One arm hung over the edge, her blanket had somehow ended up on the floor, and her stuffed penguin was wearing one of her socks.

Isla blinked.

She wasn't sure what had happened while she was asleep, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

A small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

At least someone had managed to sleep peacefully.

With a quiet sigh, Isla slipped out of bed and walked toward the window. The dream lingered in her mind more stubbornly than usual. It wasn't the first time she'd dreamed about the ice. But lately, the dreams were changing.

They felt sharper.

Closer.

Almost real.

She rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the lingering chill. Maybe it was just the stress of a new school, new people and a new life. She held on to that explanation because it was the only one that made sense. Even if a small part of her no longer believed it.

An hour later, Isla stood in the dining hall line wondering if it was socially acceptable to disappear before breakfast.

Poppy had talked the entire walk from the dorm.

"...and then she told him she was allergic to commitment."

Isla blinked.

"Who?"

"The girl."

"What girl?"

"The one from the story."

"What story?"

Poppy stopped walking and stared at her in disbelief.

"Were you even listening?"

Isla smiled, just a little.

"No."

"Rude."

"I'm honest."

Poppy pointed at her as though making a very serious accusation.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I have several."

A grin spread across Poppy's face.

"You're funny."

"No, I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

Thankfully, the line moved forward before Poppy could continue proving her point.

The dining hall was even larger than Isla remembered from the campus tour. Tall windows filled the room with soft morning light while enchanted lanterns floated overhead, glowing warmly despite the bright sky outside. Every table was crowded. Some students laughed over breakfast, others hurried through last-minute assignments, and a few looked as though they regretted choosing an eight o'clock class.

Those were the people Isla understood immediately.

She picked up a tray and followed Poppy toward an empty table. Before they made it halfway across the room, someone called Poppy's name. Then someone else waved. Another student smiled and stopped to say hello. Isla looked at her.

"Do you know everyone already?"

Poppy shrugged as though it were perfectly normal.

"Not yet."

"That's... concerning."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

By the time they sat down, Isla had been introduced to six different people. She remembered exactly one name. Mostly because the girl had introduced herself three separate times.

Poppy, meanwhile, looked completely at home.

She slipped into conversations as easily as breathing, laughing with people she'd only met yesterday as though they'd been friends for years.

Isla couldn't help admiring that.

She'd spent so long trying not to be noticed that she wasn't sure she'd remember how to make friends even if she wanted to.

A sudden wave of excitement rolled through the dining hall. Conversations quieted and heads turned toward the entrance.

Poppy sighed into her drink.

"They're here."

Isla didn't need to ask.

"The Frosthawks?"

"The Frosthawks."

A group of hockey players walked into the dining hall, laughing as they nudged one another and made their way toward the serving area. They didn't seem to be asking for attention. They didn't have to. The room gave it to them anyway.

At the center of the group was Caspian Blackwood.

Unfortunately, Poppy had been right.

He was even more attractive in daylight.

It felt unfair that one person could have talent, popularity, and good looks without seeming to struggle for any of it. Someone really should have made him choose.

Caspian laughed at something one of his teammates said. Then, almost absentmindedly, he looked up.

His eyes met Isla's.

The smile faded from his face.

For a brief moment, he looked at her with the same quiet intensity as yesterday, as though he were searching for an answer only she could give.

The feeling settled uneasily in her stomach. She had never met him. She was sure of it. So why did he keep looking at her as though he recognized her?

A teammate bumped Caspian's shoulder, drawing his attention away.

The moment passed.

Around them, the dining hall returned to its usual chatter.

But Isla couldn't shake the feeling that something had just happened. She simply didn't know what.

Her first class started ten minutes later.

Magical Theory.

The name sounded far more exciting than the lesson itself.

Their professor, a stern woman named Professor Aldridge, spent the first part of class explaining magical energy channels, then moved on to magical history before finishing with a long list of classroom rules. By the time she finally paused, half the class looked as though they were fighting to stay awake.

Isla wasn't doing much better.

The practical exercise, however, woke everyone up.

"Today," Professor Aldridge announced, "you'll demonstrate basic elemental control."

A quiet murmur spread through the room as students took turns stepping forward.

Small flames flickered above open palms.

Gentle gusts of wind danced through the air.

Tiny droplets of water floated before disappearing again.

Nothing extraordinary.

Nothing that drew too much attention.

When Isla's name was called, she walked to the front of the room, reminding herself to breathe. She didn't need to impress anyone. She only needed to blend in. That had been her goal for years.

A tiny snowflake formed above her palm, spinning slowly before drifting through the air and melting into nothing.

Professor Aldridge gave an approving nod.

"Very good."

Isla returned to her seat with a polite smile, though she couldn't help feeling the words were undeserved.

Once, creating a single snowflake would've been effortless compared to what she could really do. Three years ago, she could have covered the entire classroom in ice without breaking a sweat. Now she celebrated being forgettable. It was strange how quickly survival could change someone's idea of success.

After class, students poured into the hallway, their conversations filling the corridor with liveliness. Isla let herself relax as the crowd carried her toward the exit.

For a brief moment, everything felt normal.

Then the temperature dropped.

The cold slipped beneath her coat so suddenly that she stopped walking.

It wasn't the ordinary chill of winter.

It was sharper.

Colder.

The kind that settled deep beneath her skin.

She looked around.

The hallway was still crowded, yet no one else seemed to notice. Students kept talking, laughing, and hurrying to their next class without so much as a shiver.

A knot tightened in her stomach.

Then she heard it.

"Isla."

The whisper was so soft she almost thought she'd imagined it. She turned quickly. There was no one behind her. Only students passing by, completely unaware.

The voice came again.

Closer this time.

"Find me."

Her pulse quickened.

This wasn't like the dream.

She was awake.

She knew she was.

Which meant the voice was real.

And somehow, it knew exactly who she was.

A hand landed gently on her shoulder.

Isla flinched so hard she nearly lost her balance.

"Whoa."

Poppy looked at her with wide eyes.

"You okay?"

Isla forced herself to smile, though it felt unsteady.

"I'm fine."

Poppy didn't look convinced.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Isla wished it were something that simple.

That evening, Isla sat beside the dormitory window with an open textbook resting on her lap.

She'd been trying to study for almost half an hour.

Trying, being the important word.

Every few minutes, her eyes drifted away from the page and toward the frozen lake outside. Her thoughts refused to stay on magical theory for long. They always wandered back to the strange whispers, the dream, and the way Caspian Blackwood kept looking at her as though he recognized someone he wasn't supposed to.

None of it made sense.

She hated not having answers.

Outside, snow drifted quietly across the lake while the lights from the academy shimmered against the frozen surface. The peaceful view almost managed to calm her.

Almost.

Movement near the edge of the lake caught her eye.

Someone was standing there.

Perfectly still.

Watching the dormitory.

Watching her window.

A chill crept through her body as she slowly lowered her book.

The figure didn't move.

Didn't leave.

Didn't look away.

Isla rose carefully from her chair, her heartbeat growing louder with every step she took toward the glass.

Moonlight spilled across the frozen lake.

Slowly, it illuminated the stranger's face.

The breath caught in Isla's throat.

The girl staring back at her...

was her.

Isla's POV

The girl vanished.

One second she was standing there.

The next, she was gone.

Isla blinked and stared through the dorm window, her fingers tightening against the cold glass.

The frozen lake lay untouched beneath the moonlight. Snow drifted lazily across the ice, and everything looked so calm that it was almost convincing. There was no sign that anyone had been there at all.

Her heartbeat refused to slow.

She leaned closer, searching the lake for any movement.

Nothing.

No footprints.

No shadow.

No girl with her face staring back at her.

A knot formed in her stomach.

Part of her wanted to believe she'd imagined it. It would have been an easier explanation. But she knew what she'd seen. She remembered those eyes meeting hers across the ice.

She remembered seeing her own face.

A floorboard creaked behind her.

Poppy groaned from her bed.

"Why are you standing by the window like a haunted Victorian child?"

Isla spun around, startled.

Poppy was sitting upright, still half asleep. Her hair stuck out in every direction, and somehow her stuffed penguin had ended up balanced on her head.

"I thought I saw something."

Poppy squinted toward the window.

"A murderer?"

"No."

"A ghost?"

"No."

"A hot hockey player climbing through the window?"

Despite everything, Isla rolled her eyes.

"Go back to sleep."

Poppy yawned.

"So that's a yes."

A second later, she collapsed back onto her pillow and was snoring again.

Isla couldn't help staring at her.

It was honestly impressive.

She doubted sleep would come that easily for her tonight.

Morning arrived far sooner than Isla wanted.

She felt as though she'd barely closed her eyes, and judging by the dark circles staring back at her in the mirror, her reflection agreed.

Poppy took one look at her over breakfast and frowned.

"You look terrible."

"Good morning to you too."

"I mean it."

She pointed her fork at Isla.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

Isla hesitated.

She couldn't exactly admit she'd seen a girl who looked exactly like her standing on a frozen lake in the middle of the night.

Poppy would either think she'd completely lost her mind or find the whole thing fascinating enough to start an investigation herself.

Neither option sounded appealing.

"I just couldn't sleep."

Poppy narrowed her eyes.

"You know, lying works a lot better when your face doesn't disagree with you."

"My face says nothing."

"Your face is practically writing a novel."

A reluctant smile tugged at Isla's lips as she sighed.

Poppy smiled back, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

No matter how hard Isla tried to focus on her classes, her thoughts kept drifting back to the girl on the lake. Every time she convinced herself it couldn't have been real, she remembered those familiar eyes watching her through the darkness.

By lunchtime, she had a headache.

By afternoon, she was seriously considering dropping out and becoming a nun.

At least monasteries probably didn't come with mysterious whispers.

As she stepped out of her final class, her phone buzzed.

Poppy: Meet me outside the dorm in ten minutes.

Isla frowned and typed back.

Why?

The reply came almost immediately.

Because you need a social life.

She smiled despite herself.

I have a social life.

Three dots appeared.

Then another message.

Name one friend besides me.

Isla stared at the screen.

Annoyingly, she couldn't.

Ten minutes later, Poppy was dragging her across campus.

Again.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"I hate that answer."

"I know."

The evening air was crisp, and fresh snow crunched beneath their boots as they followed the growing crowd. Students hurried in the same direction, talking excitedly as though they were all heading toward the biggest event of the semester.

Eventually, they reached the main courtyard.

Isla stopped.

The place was packed.

Booths lined the pathways, enchanted speakers filled the air with music, and blue, silver, and white banners fluttered above the crowd.

Frosthawk colours.

Poppy spread her arms dramatically.

"Welcome to Frost Week."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

Isla already knew she wasn't going to enjoy this.

Everywhere she looked, students wore hockey jerseys. Some carried handmade signs, others argued excitedly about upcoming matches, while nearby booths sold everything from team scarves to enchanted snow cones and temporary magical tattoos.

She wasn't entirely sure why anyone needed a tattoo that sparkled.

College was strange.

"Silvercrest takes hockey very seriously."

The voice came from beside her.

Deep.

Familiar.

Much too close.

Isla turned and found herself face-to-face with Caspian Blackwood.

Speak of the devil.

Up close, he seemed different somehow. Not because he was better looking, though that was unfortunately true, but because he felt more real than he had from across a crowded courtyard.

It was easier to notice the small things.

The easy confidence in the way he stood.

The warmth in his eyes that didn't quite match the reputation she'd built for him in her head.

She wasn't sure she liked that.

"Hi," Caspian said.

As though this were the most ordinary conversation in the world.

"Hi."

Wonderful.

A truly unforgettable first impression.

Poppy looked far too entertained.

"Cas," she said brightly.

"Isla."

His gaze rested on Isla for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't enough to make her uncomfortable.

Just enough to make her wonder why.

"You enjoying Frost Week?"

"No."

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"You've got to appreciate the honesty."

"You asked."

"Fair enough."

Poppy looked between them with obvious satisfaction.

Then she clapped her hands together.

"Well, I'm leaving."

Isla stared at her.

"What?"

"You two seem busy."

"We're literally just standing here."

"Exactly."

Before Isla could stop her, Poppy disappeared into the crowd.

Coward.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Cas slipped his hands into his jacket pockets.

"You don't like hockey."

It wasn't a question.

"Not particularly."

"You've never watched a game."

"How do you know?"

"You have the expression."

She frowned.

"What expression?"

"The one people get when they think hockey is just people chasing a puck."

"I mean..."

Cas laughed.

The sound caught her off guard.

It wasn't arrogant.

It wasn't mocking.

It was warm, effortless, and entirely genuine.

That was... inconvenient.

Somehow, they ended up walking through Frost Week together.

Neither of them seemed quite sure how to end the conversation, so Cas pointed out different booths instead. He explained old academy traditions, recommended which events were worth attending, and admitted which ones students only pretended to enjoy.

To Isla's annoyance, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. That made him much harder to dislike.

They stopped beside the frozen fountain in the centre of the courtyard. Music drifted through the evening air while students laughed around them, and for a brief moment everything felt almost ordinary.

Then the temperature dropped.

The change was so sudden that Isla's breath caught.

An icy chill wrapped around her, sharper than the winter air had any right to be.

She knew this cold.

Before she could stop herself, she tensed.

A whisper brushed against her ear.

"Find me."

Her pulse quickened.

The voice returned.

This time it sounded desperate.

"Find me before it wakes."

The colour drained from Isla's face.

"What?"

Cas looked at her, confused.

"What happened?"

She looked around wildly.

Students kept talking and laughing. Walking past as though nothing had changed. No one else had heard it. No one else had felt the cold.

The whisper came one last time.

Only now, it no longer sounded like a plea.

It sounded like a warning.

"It's coming."

A loud crack split through the air.

The courtyard fell silent.

The frozen fountain fractured down the middle as glowing blue ice spread across the stone beneath it.

Isla's stomach dropped.

For the briefest second, she could have sworn something moved beneath the ice.

Watching.

Waiting.