Adrian entered just as Serena lowered herself to the floor beside me, clutching the book as if it were something alive.
“What happened?” he asked.
I looked up at him.
“Mom left us instructions.”
One month later, we returned to Aspen.
Not to the cliff.
Not to the place of falling.
To a meadow below the mountain, where summer had transformed the world I remembered. The snow was gone. Wildflowers moved in the wind. The air smelled of pine and sun-warmed earth. Far above us, the ridgeline cut cleanly against a blue sky.
Adrian stood with Julian in his arms, awkward but improving. Clara sat on a folding chair beneath a white umbrella, pretending she had not packed enough food for twelve people. Marianne came too, claiming she was only there to ensure no one made legally questionable emotional decisions.
Serena stood beside me at the edge of the meadow.
