Frosted Windowpanes
Read the chilling conclusion to Everly's haunted holidays.
Part One
For those of you who read “Part One” in Issue 0, feel free to skip to “Part Two!”
In the high hills of Eastern Washington, the ponderosa pines fight for ground and nutrients. The old ones grow stronger, and the smaller trees wither and die, crushed by the insatiable need of their elders.
Everly had been coming to the lodge for as long as she could remember. For her, the place was a mosaic of memories, good and bad, full and fragmented. This year, though, as she unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen, one memory overshadowed the rest.
Her sister died here.
The story goes that Allison got swept away by the river. Even after a year, Everly didn’t believe it. There were too many inconsistencies. Tonight she was going to find the truth. Tonight she was going to put the questions to rest. Tonight she was going to the glade.
Her family had stories about that place. Tucked away at the end of the trail, it was filled with childhood memories, magic, and rituals. She had almost forgotten about it, but slowly, since Allison’s death, it had begun to infiltrate her dreams again.
Everly reached into her pocket and found the three bottles of cinnamon whiskey she’d stolen from Dad’s stash. She would need them.
Toby, Everly’s little brother, pushed past her and raced into the kitchen. Dad came next. He let the food crate clatter down on the kitchen island. “I don’t know about you kids, but I’m gonna get to work on the world’s best candied yams.” He seemed almost too cheerful, and Everly wondered if he was trying to distract himself.
She went to the sink and started running water. The lines coughed and spluttered, but at least they hadn’t frozen over. As she waited for the musty smell to clear, she looked out the window above the sink.
Allison’s boyfriend, Trent, was still hanging back by the car. He popped the trunk, pulled out his warm wool coat, and tugged it on. Then he closed the trunk and stopped to stare into the distance. It was like he was shy and trying to give the family space. She didn’t understand. He belonged here. He seemed to know that when he begged his parents to let him go.
Everly turned off the water and glanced at the others. She didn’t think they would notice if she disappeared for a while, so she slipped out of the kitchen and ventured deeper into the lodge. The halls vibrated with an iridescent cold, like sparkling cranberry and the scent of juniper in someone’s drink. She loved how the air felt when they first arrived. It felt like they were still outdoors.
She passed the bedrooms and the bathroom before reaching the great room at the end of the hall. The walls rose fifteen or twenty feet to a peaked roof, and two iron chandeliers hung from a beam. They would need to lower them to light the candles. Everly paused to plug in a strand of twinkle lights draped over the window. They cast stars on the walls but did little to light the murky room.
She turned toward the East wall. That wall was different from the log walls that made up the rest of the lodge. It was made entirely of stone with an arched doorway that led to the library. Everly had always wondered about that strange little room. Maybe the builders added it later. Maybe the stone room had always been here and they built the lodge around it.
Light filled the windows, and Everly looked out in time to see headlights cut through the mist. Uncle Arlo’s truck pulled into the driveway. Dad’s brother loved these trips. He wasn’t married and he didn’t seem to have any friends, so he hovered instead. It was comforting that some things hadn’t changed.
Everly turned back toward the arched doorway. The library was little more than a dank, stone hallway with shelves of books pressing in on either side. At the far end of the corridor stood a floor-to-ceiling window carved out of the rock. Icicles hung from the eaves. Most of them were normal—maybe a foot in length. Near the corner, though, where the gutter creased and extra water gathered, the icicles were much larger. She counted five long ones, easily twice her height. Toby would like that there was one for each of them—Dad, Toby, Trent, Arlo, and Everly.
She looked beyond the icicles and down toward the river. They swore that Allison died there. After all, they found Allison’s jacket hanging on the dock, and her shoes on a rock by the river. The going story—the best they could come up with—was that she waded into the glacial water and it swept her away, but that didn’t make sense, because they didn’t find Allison’s phone. If Allison had gone into the river on purpose, she wouldn’t have taken her phone. They should have found it somewhere. They never did.
Hopefully, the glade would shed some light on what actually happened.
She unbolted the door and stepped out onto the porch. Waterlogged wood creaked underfoot, and in the distance, the river rushed high. Steeling herself, she drained one of the shots of cinnamon whiskey from her pocket, and then she started toward the trailhead. She knew the path well. It dipped down at the edge of the forest and twisted sharply a few times. At the end, in the glade, the trees bent low as if to worship a particular spot of dirt. Dead blackberries and thick holly vines twisted together and knotted up inside themselves. The snow fell and the wind cried, but they never reached the heart of that place.
The first time Everly went to the glade was on her eighth birthday. Mom must have been tipsy, because she cut two slices from Everly’s birthday cake and ran giggling down the path. Everly wished for a pet, and Mom lit the candles on the cake and smashed it onto the ground. When they got back to the lodge, there was a black rabbit with white paws and a pink bow. For a long time, Everly thought the glade was like Santa, and her mom had secretly bought the rabbit to build up the magical lie of the forest. Then, on her twelfth birthday, Everly decided to go back with Allison. It was dark, and they ran along the path, shining their flashlights into the woods and gasping as the nocturnals rustled in the trees. When they reached the glade, someone was already there. Slowly, they pulled back the vines that hung across the entrance. It was Mom. She stood in the center of the clearing with a cup of wine in her hands.
Her eyes darted to the girls.
“What are you doing, Mom?” Everly asked. It was her first hint that the glade might be real.
Mom didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to Allison. “I told you never to come here without me.”
Halfway to the trail, Everly heard footsteps crunching behind her.
“There you are,” Trent half-shuffled and half-slid down the snowy path beside her. “Where are you going?”
She thought about lying, but decided against it “I’m going to the glade. I’m going to ask what happened to Allison.”
“Everly.”
She stopped him before he could say it. “I have to try.”
He put his hand on her arm, and she felt a rush of warmth, even out there and even under the circumstances. “It was an accident. I know that doesn’t feel like closure, but we have to be okay with it. We have to move on. We’ve seen what happens when we can’t.”
He was talking about Mom. Everly could still picture her mother, dressed in sweats, red-eyed, caught in the doorway with her suitcase in hand. She had apologized endlessly, nearly collapsing on the couch, but the next morning, she was gone. Allison’s death had broken her.
“I have to, Trent.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’m coming with you.”
“I should do it alone,” she said. “It might be dangerous.”
“All the more reason for me to come.”
His protective streak drove Allison crazy toward the end. She used to complain about how she felt stifled—she couldn’t do anything without Trent hovering. Maybe it would get old in time, but for now, Everly was grateful.
The sparse trees diffused some of the wind, and as they walked, the atmosphere thickened. The bare arms of the alder trees hugged the furry evergreens, and the air took on a humid weight. Everly kept desperately close to Trent.
At the glade, Everly slowed. In a moment she would call out to the keeper of the woods. Her voice would ring out clear and bright. But for now, she held onto the silence as tightly as she could. They pushed back the vines and stepped into the cavern. Darkness covered everything, and Everly wished she had a light. She reached into her pocket and took out the whiskey. Her hand found Trent’s, and she passed a bottle to him. The air smelled like smoke from a bad tree, and she felt dizzy. A wet breath of wind crept through the vines.
If she was going to do this, the time had come.
Everly tipped her bottle toward the ground. Ice crackled as the liquid made contact, and Everly stepped back as it hissed. She swallowed hard and then said, “Please show me what happened to Allison. Please.”
When Everly and Trent reached the lodge, Trent paused at the sight of Arlo’s truck. “When did he get here?”
“Right before we left.”
He nodded slowly. Trent and Arlo had never gotten along. Trent thought Arlo was odd, and Arlo thought Trent invited himself on too many family outings.
In the kitchen, Toby, Arlo, and Dad were sorting through the food and searching for the right pots and pans. Something was already steaming on the stove. It felt too early to be cooking, but Everly wasn’t going to criticize.
Trent made a break for the great room before Arlo noticed him.
“Where’d you go?” Toby asked. “Did you get holly?”
“No.”
“We need holly. Mom always does holly.”
“Maybe we should do things differently this year,” She ruffled his hair.
He scowled.
“Everly,” Arlo looked up from the stove. “Your gravy is good.”
“It needs more salt,” Toby muttered.
Everly looked at the pot on the stove. It steamed heartily. “I didn’t make it.”
Arlo shrugged.
“I’m going to light a fire,” She said, though in reality she just wanted to catch up with Trent.
When Everly reached the great room, she was surprised to find that the fire had already been lit, and so had the candles in the chandeliers. The chandeliers still swayed after being lowered and raised by their great iron chains, but it couldn’t have been Trent—he had only left the kitchen a moment ago. All the fine points of dazzling light from the fire and the candles and the strung white lights made it hard to see anything in the shadows. Something caught her eye, though. There was movement in the library doorway.
As Everly stared, something materialized in the archway. A shadow, darker than the darkness around it, hung down from the ceiling. Startled, Everly took a jagged step back. The thing disappeared, disintegrating like it was never there at all. Everly’s hands shook. There were other stories about this place; whispers about things that roamed the forest. Maybe that was the reason Mom was afraid of the glade.
Everly tried to convince herself it was nothing. She had already had a couple of drinks, and even in her childhood, the lodge had played tricks on her mind. But something else occurred to her. A thought sidled up to her like a cat easing onto her lap. What if the woods were answering her? What if that shadow had come for a reason? Everly took a step closer. After all, if she was too afraid to confront the answer, then she never should have asked the counsel of the woods.
“Trent?” she whispered.
Everly entered the library and found Trent standing at the far end of the corridor, looking out the window. His back was to Everly, and he was wearing that coat again—the wool coat with the high collar. That made sense. The library was literally freezing. Frost crept up the inside of the window, and Everly could see her breath. Trent stared out the window. A clinking sound came from his hand. He was holding a goblet filled with black liquid. He swirled it, and ice clattered against the walls.
“Six,” he muttered.
What did that mean? He just kept staring at the window, and so she turned to follow his gaze. It took a moment, but she finally saw it. Six icicles hung from the eaves. Six, when there were only four half an hour ago. Icicles like that took days to form.
Everly stepped closer to Trent. The moonlight hit his goblet, and she saw that the liquid wasn’t black at all. It was blood-red wine, coating ice cubes like syrup, ending bitter notes up into the air.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“It was here,” he said. His voice sounded too distant as if it was being carried over a great divide and artificially magnified at the last second. He glanced at her and his eyes were wrong. The shadows fell in such a way that they looked dark all the way through. He looked away before she could look closer.
“It was here,” he said. His voice sounded too distant as if it was being carried over a great divide and artificially magnified at the last second. He glanced at her and his eyes were wrong. The shadows fell in such a way that they looked dark all the way through. He looked away before she could look closer.
“I have to tell you something,” Trent said.
“What?”
“I have to tell you something.” He repeated, staring at the window.
“Trent—what do you have to tell me?”
Everly turned, too. She could see
something in the reflection of the icicles. Something swayed slightly even though she and Trent remained perfectly still. The room felt heavy with a presence that didn’t belong to either of them. There was something in the library. Something told her that the shadow from the ceiling had returned, though she didn’t dare look. She had to get Trent out. He wanted to protect her, but this was her fight, not his. She was the one who insisted on calling out to the woods.
“Trent,” she whispered, dread creeping deeper, “Can you get me a drink, too?” She pointed to the wine.
He looked at his cup, and then he turned, stumbling a little, looking lost. He left the library, and Everly couldn’t help but think it was lucky that he was used to her requests for alcohol. His response was automatic at this point.
Everly turned back toward the window.
In the corner, deep in the shadows, something shifted.
Part Two
At first, as she stood in the library staring at the corner, all she could see was the soft curve of the thing, caught in the moonlight. It quivered, and though most of it was hidden in the shadow, she didn’t think it was trying to hide. It was waiting. It pulled away from the wall, leaning forward in anticipation. A sliver of its bony arm came into the light, and Everly took a sharp step backward.
“Not this one,” A whisper filled the space.
Everly spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but found nothing. When she turned back to look at the corner, she found that it was mercifully empty. She took a deep, shaking breath.
Trent reappeared a moment later, blinking as if he had just woken up. “I was going to get your drink,” he said, looking confused. “I think I forgot.”
“You said you had to tell me something?” she said.
“Did I?” His eyes, bright and green, drifted down to the floor.
“We’re not safe here,” Everly said as they walked back to the kitchen.
He nodded. “Would you believe I drank that wine? I saw it there and then for some reason, I drank it. I don’t even know where it came from. I didn’t even think about it. It was just there, and I drank it,” he looked guilty.
“Did you see…?”
She didn’t have to finish the question. Trent nodded on his own. “I thought it was a trick of the light. You saw it too?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought about running, but by the time I saw it, I’d tried the wine. The wine made me…”
“Out of it,” she finished.
She was about to ask him what he thought they should do, but when they stepped into the kitchen, they found it quite different from how they left it. The family was gone. The kitchen was empty, and yet practically every pot in the place sat on the stove, bubbling, simmering, and boiling. The oven was stuffed with ribs, rolls, stuffing, and yams.
“They just started cooking and left?” Trent said.
Everly met his eyes, and though neither of them said it, she imagined they were both thinking the same thing. Why would they start dinner so early, and then walk out? That didn’t make sense. Without a word, they moved around the kitchen, turning off burners, taking things out of the oven, and returning drinks and condiments to the refrigerator.
“Allison always started dinner early,” Everly said
He looked up, but before he could say anything, they heard footsteps on the back porch. “Maybe we should keep everyone together,” Everly suggested.
He nodded, and as they made their way to the great room, Everly tried to figure out how she would get her family out of there if it came to that. What would she tell them to persuade them they needed to go?
In the great room, the family dumped armfuls of firewood down on the hearth. Dad tripped as he laid down his load. “Oh boy, I might need a nap before dinner,” he joked to no one in particular.
Toby came to stand in front of Everly. “We didn’t find any holly,” he said as if that was his biggest problem in life. “We need it for the table.”
“Maybe we can get some later.”
Dad checked his watch. “Should we get dinner going a bit early this year?”
Everly and Trent exchanged glances again. Everly wondered if the others would notice that the food was already half-hot. When they reached the kitchen, though, Everly froze in the doorway. She probably should have seen this coming. The food was back in the oven, the pots were gurgling, and condensation ran down the wine bottles.
“Look at you, Ev!” Arlo said. “Always on top of things.”
Only that wasn’t true. Everly had nothing to do with this. Memories of Allison flashed through her mind.
Dad walked over to the stove and spooned out a bite of gravy. After trying it, he beamed at Everly. “Your gravy is really good, too.”
“I didn’t make the gravy,” she murmured. Allison must have. It couldn’t be Allison. Yet it had to be Allison.
She walked over to the stove to stir the pot and think. As she did, she looked around the kitchen and realized that Toby had disappeared. He was with them just moments ago. Did he lose himself somewhere in the lodge? Trent must have noticed her expression, because he joined her at the stove, taking the whisk out of her hand.
“You okay?” His eyes searched hers, and the same warmth from earlier—the sense that she was safe because he was close—radiated through her.
“I need to find Toby,” she whispered. “Stay with them.”
He looked reluctant but agreed.
This time she wasn’t quiet as she tore through the lodge. “Toby?” She called. She flung open bedroom doors. She banged on the bathroom door, and it swung open, empty. As she went, she began to dread that he had gone to the library. She walked faster. She reached the great room, hoping he would be there. He wasn’t.
Throaty, wet breath filled her ears. It was unmistakable this time. Everly forced herself to look where she didn’t want to look—to focus on the darkness of the arched doorway in the stone wall. She could see it. The shadow waited there again. It leered for a moment before pulling back up toward the ceiling.
Filled with fear for Toby, Everly ran toward the library. Toby must be in there and she had to get him out. Bursting through the doorway, she pulled up sharply, searching the ceiling. There was nothing there. When she looked down, though, it was clear that there was something wrong with the room. Everly’s vision felt distorted like she’d had too much to drink. The library looked far too long and narrow. Toby stood at the end of the corridor, and the room converged upon him. The walls shimmered and shifted toward him before flowing outward again like ocean waves.
“Toby?” Her voice sounded so quiet.
He turned to look at her. His face was serene, but his eyes were deep gray and full of nothing. His little face—barely seven years old—twisted into something almost unrecognizable. She inhaled, terrified by him and terrified for him at the same time.
His voice, when it came, was too big for his body. “If you don’t tell Dad, I will.”
“What?” She had no idea what he meant.
“If you don’t tell Dad, I will,” he repeated, much more forceful.
He looked so small standing there in front of that window, and yet somehow his presence took up the whole space. He loomed over her like he was the air itself. That’s when she knew it wasn’t him she felt. It wasn’t Toby’s presence filling the room.
Behind him, deep in the corner between the window and the wall, something shifted.
“Toby,” she didn’t look away from the corner. “Toby, it’s time for dinner. Dad needs your help with the table.” Desperation crept into her voice.
Toby took a step toward her, and Everly saw the thing in the corner lean after him. It practically vibrated, panting with excitement.
“Go!” She commanded, louder and stronger.
And he did. Toby ran to the door, startled by her voice. She never yelled like that.
Everly was left to face the corner alone. As she stared, the thing stretched upward. Its silverly outline rose toward the ceiling. Everly took a step back, hoping that it wouldn’t move with her. She wondered if she could outrun it. She had to try, at least.
When she turned to run, though, she found that there was something wrong with the doorway. It had filled with ice. Just like the icicles outside, the gray water had grown thick and fast. She couldn’t see anything in the great room besides vague, nebulous shapes and shadows, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to break through it. Disoriented, she spun around. The window was covered by a thick sheet of ice, too.
The thing was still in the corner, and now she had nowhere to run.
“Dad!” She screamed. “Trent!” She felt the words leave her mouth, but it was as if the ice itself swallowed them up.
She looked around wildly. She had to fight. She wouldn’t just let it take her. She looked around for a way to defend herself, but there was nothing. Everything was gone. The books were gone, the escapes were gone, and the shelves and the curtains were gone, too. She was trapped in a stone box. Everly backed up to the wall. Her hands felt along either side of it. Ice had spread over the stone, too. She could feel the water melting against her palms.
The creature shifted. Its joints cracked as it slid down the wall.
There was nothing left, and so Everly did the only thing she could, “Allison!” She screamed.
Then she closed her eyes. She braced herself against the wall, and she waited for the thing to attack. She waited for the teeth.
A slow scratching sound—like branches on windows—came from behind Everly. She turned to look. A woman stood there in feral nobility. Her hair was swept up into a tangle of braids, draped with moss, and studded with berries that glistened with frost. Pine needles crumbled down from her skirt and twigs dragged along behind her as if to carve arcane secrets into the stone. Water ran down her face and her eyes, gray and hollow, broke Everly’s heart.
The woman was different, but somehow she was still Allison.
“You can’t be here,” Allison’s voice rattled like the wind in brittle blackberries.
Everly felt a displacement of air. A cold hand met her shoulder and clenched the bone there. She felt the fingers creep up her neck, up to her cheek. Something like thorns caught at her skin. Everly felt a cry gurgling up in her throat, but she couldn’t get it out. The fingers crawled along her skin, reaching the corner of her mouth. A finger hooked her lip and tugged.
She couldn’t move.
“No,” Allison said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was sure. “You can’t have her.”
The hand fell away.
Slowly, Everly straightened up. She looked over her shoulder. The creature was gone. The books had returned, and the doorway and window were normal again. When she turned back toward the wall, Allison was gone too. Of course Allison came. Of course she protected Everly. Though Everly wanted to call out to her again—to ask her what happened and beg her to stay—she knew they were passed that now. She had to get to her family.
In the great room, Everly ran straight into Arlo. He grabbed her by both shoulders and held her back. “Whoa.” He laughed. As soon as he saw her face though, he grew serious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” Her voice cracked. They had to get out. What could she say to make them get out?
Arlo interrupted her thoughts. “Is Toby back there with you?”
Toby? Everly had sent Toby to the kitchen. Toby should be safe in the glow of all of that food and family and cheer.
A draft of cold air rushed through the lodge. The chandeliers swung on their chains, and a few leaves skittered across the floor. The door to the porch banged against its hinges, and Arlo and Everly came to the same conclusion at the same time.
“He went for holly,” Arlo said.
“I’ll go get him,” Everly said. “Tell Trent where I’m going.” She wanted to protect everyone, but Toby was by far the most vulnerable. She had to get to him first. Everly ran out the door and left it wide open behind her. There was only one place where the holly grew thick. Toby would be the glade.
“Allison!” She called as she ran. This time Allison didn’t come.
Everly heard the kitchen door open behind her, and footsteps pound along the path. “Ev, wait!” Trent called.
Relief filled her. She wasn’t alone. Trent was there, bright as starlight and sturdy as an evergreen.
“Toby’s at the glade.”
That was all he needed to hear. The two ran through the forest, slipping in the snow as they went. As they approached the glade, Everly smelled smoke. A pulsing glow came from around the bend. At the end of the path, the cavern of briars came into view, and something glowed from inside like a fiery heart bursting through its ribcage.
She feared the worst, but as she reached the cavern, a peaceful scene awaited her. Toby lay on the ground, curled up beside a carefully stoked campfire. Everly dropped to her knees, sliding in the dirt and rock and ice. Even as the ground shredded her legs, though, she could tell her brother was fine. His shoulders rose and fell with steady breaths.
“Toby, wake up!” She shook him more roughly than she intended, but he didn’t stir at all. Everly pulled him into her lap and looked up at Trent.
Trent sighed. “I think Allison wants to do what you asked,” Trent said. “I think she wants to show you what happened to her.” He knelt beside her, looking straight into her eyes. “Everly, I have to tell you something.”
Finally, after everything, she began to understand.
Trent looked away. “I was sure it was an accident. I was sure she just drowned. But there’s one thing I couldn’t shake.”
Still clutching her unconscious brother, she looked up at Trent. “What?”
“She told me something the night before she died. She said she saw Arlo and your mom…together.”
Her head reeled, but not because she didn’t understand the implications, and not because she didn’t believe them. She wanted to pretend that she didn’t get it—but she did. She remembered the way Arlo and Mom used to time their exits from rooms. She remembered how Mom used to look so guilty, and how Arlo seemed to hate her a little too much for leaving. A worse thought occurred to her. She remembered what Toby said when she found him in the library. If you don’t tell Dad, I will. Had those been Allison’s words flowing through him? Did she say that before she died? Was that what got her killed?
When Everly looked back at Trent, she found that everything she thought she knew crumbled. Every way she had ever loved him melted away into nothing. How could he hold onto this? How could he act like part of their family while keeping this secret?
Everly pushed her brother toward Trent, determined to make him useful for something. “Take him. We have to go”
Trent did what she asked.
“You should have told me,” Everly yanked back the vines and started up the path again.
“I didn’t think it was important until later.”
“And then?”
“I kept an eye on Arlo. I made sure you were safe. That’s why I came on this trip—because I heard he was coming and I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Now she understood how Allison felt. Stifled and coddled. His excuses echoed out into the snow—empty, meaningless, and heartless. He knew better. She could read the guilt trailing his words.
When Everly threw open the door, she found Dad slumped over the dinner table. He was snoring heavily. Wine spilled over glasses, trickling down the sides, and the table was full of all the food that Allison made. She left them a meal and put them asleep to protect them.
Everly understood now. There was only one person Allison and her monster intended to hurt.
Everly tore through the building as the first muffled thuds pulsed through the walls. She felt the vibrations travel up through her feet and into her body. The halls were pitch black now. Allison had pulled the curtains down for this last part.
When Everly reached the great room, the arched doorway was covered in ice again. She couldn’t see anything through the ice—only shadows. Everly stood in front of the ice, and she listened.
From somewhere far away, deep in the recesses of that other place, she heard Arlo. “Please!” His voice came through frantic and distant. He was fading away like he had made Allison fade away. He was almost forgotten. A dull thud traveled through the walls, sneaking out from that invisible place, and a strange calm washed over Everly. Arlo was lost now. He was bound up somewhere that she couldn’t reach, even if she wanted to. Now that everything was said and done, she wasn’t sure that she did.
The cries faded. One more thud rocked the lodge—a sickening wet sound. Tremors ran through the stone, and then everything went silent. Everly stepped away from the wall. She turned and walked out onto the porch. Numb, she kept walking until she reached the window to the library. It stood normal, clear, and lit from within. Through the window, she could see the rows of books. She could see the shelves and the single lamp in the far corner. There was nothing else.
As she stepped back, she noticed something else. The icicles had changed one final time. Now there were four.
After the holidays, Dad and Toby didn’t remember Arlo ever being at the lodge. They claimed that he called last minute to tell them he couldn’t make it, and when Everly stealthily returned to look for his truck, she couldn’t find it. All she found was a large pile of rock and ice, vaguely shaped like a vehicle.
After the holidays, when Trent called her to ask if she wanted to get coffee and talk about what happened, she didn’t call him back. She didn’t hate him, but an overwhelming ambivalence came over her whenever she thought about him.
After the holidays, she looked into colleges that accepted late admissions.
After the holidays, she moved to a dorm twenty minutes from the city and twenty minutes from Dad and Toby.
After the holidays, she stood alone in her apartment, and when she looked out the window, there was just one solitary icicle hanging from the eaves.