I rose on shaking legs, part of me wanting to run away as the demons of Alaska whispered. Memories returning, one on top of the other. But now I had tools. Weapons to fight back. It had taken two years and the work wasn’t done yet—it might never be done. But when the cold reached for me with icy fingers, I remembered Silas’s kindness instead. When I shivered in that drafty cabin until I thought my bones would shatter, he’d lain on that hard floor and put his arms around me, sharing what little warmth he had. For a few moments, I’d been safe.
